Poetic License

What makes a story a poem A paragraph a verse I trust I'll find the answer Before I'm in my hearse But if you are the man, Sir Who can provide the answer Tell me when it happened That a verse became a stanza But if you are a poet Then you will surely know it For all your lines will rhyme Except for when they don't Now I've just confused myself By using that word 'don't' Cos I can't find a single word That rhymes, so I wont You see, I'm quite prepared to gamble That when one takes a lonesome amble And you're a poet it's allowed To be described as 'as a cloud' It's like I'm mounted 'pon a horse And wouldn't you just know it My steed has trod a wayward course That's fodder for a poet But of late the world of art Has been blown open wide It seems that art can be a cow ... In formaldehyde But poems are a different art And surely even me Can speak a little jauntily And call it poetry So here I sit with pen in hand The pen is metaphorical I'm gonna type my poem now And it shall be historical A classic of the genre My ode shall be Imperical But seasoned poets may proclaim My efforts are hysterical By lamplight lit, my ode was writ Yet no man cared a lot for it Pen raised, indignantly I hissed Then I shall write... My shopping list! 5 November 2018