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Poem

Pour the drips and drops from an iambic alembic,
Evaporations of rosy prose and rhyming thyme,
To concoct within 'ye cauldron what the polemic
Spoons from this soup of poetic slime.

Add a measly mint of menthol wash,
And soul whose siphoned thrice with spices,
To be sprinkled into this soup of squash,
Whose nuts be buttery literary devices.

Boil atop the flames of foul feelings,
And stir in a mirror for imagery,
To reflect on while you're peeling,
Parallel chopped potatoes for symmetry. 

Once the brew of poesy stew,
Has come to bubble with inflated diction,
Grab some allusions from whence you grew,
And sprinkle them with hints of your addiction.

What is stew without some cheesy,
Joke, like saying "once upon a thyme",
Or corny lines, like "long ago", are easy,
To discuss some metaphorical mountain climbed. 

Top it off with some spoon bending ending,
To baffle those who chew,
On the chunks of messages your poem's sending,
So that they have to guess what's in the stew.



This poem was submitted for a poetry contest sponsored by Cindi Rockwell.

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