Line writing, must I feel like verse,
…For words and poems to form?
Or is it when I’m feeling worse,
…They come but have no chorm?
When brow sweat browbeats words in shape
…‘Cause heart song does not sing
Do birds take flight and chimps go ape
…As wrenched rhyme-bells wring?
When lines are built by block and brick
…And not by poet flow
Do they still soothe souls that are sick?
…Does anybody no?
Is water pumped as pure and cool
…As water from a well
That slakes the thirst of any fool
…In palace or in sell?
They seem to me to be as sweet
…As cakes or chocolate pie.
And if the reader says they treat,
…Then who am I to lye?
© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2011.