Wordsong, wordsong,
Lovely as birdsong.
Could be a Pop Song,
But never a Swansong.

Could be a rap,
And all that *******.
For Rap is easy,
Lemon squeezy.
But rap has beat
And words that repeat.
Rap has rhyme
Nearly every time.
Rap even has metre –
Who can beat her?

Yet wordsong is melodious too,
Giving us a worldly view.
Poems of love and dedication
Even human emancipation.
Whoops I’m slipping back -
Back into that addictive rap.

You must remember to read out loud –
Silver lining on every cloud.
Poetic landscapes catch our gaze,
Brightening up our mundane days.

The river of life keeps flowing on,
Iambic metre our beating heart.
Read it like you’re singing a song,
Write it whether or not it’s Art.

So play those words
So full of feeling
Just like the birds
And so appealing.

Paul Butters

© PB 27\1\2021.