Poetry is in Charge

Poetry is moody, she can be pouty and sad. She can be vibrant, dancing the chicken dance. I allow her freedom to be herself. It does me no good to feel I am the boss. Poetry is a chameleon. He is flexible. He wakes me up in the night with an end rhyme. What the heck! Poetry is a teaser. Poetry is not just a he or a she. They is also a we, an us, a them, collaborating. Going off in directions I could not outguess. Doing what I never knew they could do. Poetry slides onto a page with loops and whorls. Laughing at my consternation. Taking me totally unserious. Poetry does not listen. Sometimes I have this weird feeling I am in charge. Poetry laughs Pokes fun at me Smacks me upside the head Flies out the window with a hamster on her back. Reminding me who is in charge.