Poetry for Poetry

P

Everyone loves a proper poem

Where love and hate mingle among the trees

And profound thoughts twist and turn

And skip and dance in the breeze

Grown men pondering every sentence and each pause

Agonising as poets like to do, the words of every verse

As they wonder what Shakespeare would have done

With three mad old witches and a curse

And as I say "three mad old witches that’s so Easy"

These great poets look upon me with great distain

As I shout "eye of newt and leg of frog"

But they insist I’m a silly chap and totally insane