I Love a Poem
I love a poem that I can understand,
not tangled threads(obscurity’s dark web),
but glove of silk that slides off Poet’s hand.
Newfangled poetry can have an ebb;
its words can from the shoreline of my mind
recede into their author’s murky sea.
Like birds on splendid wing, the poems the kind
I need are those which sing with clarity!
To soar, a verse best-written is sublime.
To such as this I’m drawn, so I essay
to pour my thoughts on paper, adding rhyme;
then touch them up, succinct in what I say.
How strange I sometimes hours might take to write
a mere fourteen-line sonnet that is trite!
Jan. 23, 2021
for Charlotte Puddifoot's the 'Open Poetry 1' Poetry Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2021
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