The art of us all
by cricketjeff on October 17, 2008. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
In life, in love, in time for tea
By air or on the ground
All things must be in poetry
Both mundane and profound
All life all art the end and start
The tiny and the great
A horse and cart, a broken heart
Right now or sit and wait
I’ve read a verse that formed a curse
Proposals in a swirl
A hand made purse a jet black hearse
A very pretty girl
The merely trite the impolite
A tale of love and lust
A moonlit night a dreadful sight
The end of boom and bust
The most profane, the quite insane
The words I want to hear
Her pain filled brain and that blocked drain
Obscure or pure and clear
In perfect rhyme about a crime
Or free from form or scan
The most sublime the out of time
The history of man
There are no deeds no human greeds
No thoughts that can’t be sung
The poet feeds on all man’s needs
The air to fill a lung
I love the sound the fun that’s found
By ear or on the page
It can’t be downed this art unbound
For all of life’s a stage!
Author notes
I woke up with the first stanza …
English