Poetry gives me Joy

The Joys of Verse
Lie not in mere versification,
But while happens the fuss,
In that artful thought,
and that crafted expression.

No if no but, No long no short,
Too unruly appear it may,
Still Poetry is a mind sport
With rules to many's dismay.

But worry not, my Poet Dear.
The sport is not unkind.
You're the sole rule maker.
Follow them to train the mind.

Train but strain not too much.
Go forth and do thy bidding.
Experience Written Word's tender touch.
Say aloud your deepest feeling.

Poetry is to life - Play the game -
As a beautiful drop to open sea !
Journey and Exploration ought be the same.
Life's a journey, Explorers are We.

Whatever may I make of Poetry,
The art does not come easy.
Yet the Muse, to each her citizenry,
Gives -- but not too gently.

Unforgiving she may be,
And may need much attending,
But perchance she comes to Be,
O Poet, it is a great great great feeling !

In the end,
Happy or Sad you may still be,
but it is a happy-sad joyous ending.


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early version of 1st stanza

The Joys of Verse
Lie not in mere versification,
But while happens the activity's fuss,
In that artful thought and that crafted expression.

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The Joys of Poetry
Lie not in mere versification,
But while happens the activity,
In the artful thought and crafted expression.