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Apr 2016
If I were a poem, my words would be my form;
I'd lilt and twirl, I'd sift and swirl
I'd be above the norm.

If I were a poem, my syllables would ring;
I'd thunder and shout, I'd laugh and cry out
I'd be like a poem you sing.

If I were a poem, my sounds would be odd;
I'd change and hold, I'd peak and fold
Pronunciation would be broad.

If I were a poem, my meaning would be long;
I'd love and cry, I'd hate and die
I'd be a touching song.
Malcolm Eaves
Written by
Malcolm Eaves
457
     gray rain
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