Rhymed and metered
Or free as a waterfall
Abstract or lucid
Poetry - it’s loved by us all

Rich in images
Or to the point - blunt
Not so verbose
Or lined with puns

We have our own styles
Rambling or terse
Unique and different
Truly di -verse

A little tattered
Broken

A little shaken
Shattered

A little scattered
Rattled  

But a little fixed
Mended

A little patched
Stitched

With gum and glue
Old and new
Needles and pins
Tonic and gin

Up and down
Round and round  

I soared
I dived
I survived

With hope
Though a little weary
With a smile
though part numb —
I wait
wondering what’s to come

At one time
I would scour the skies
looking for the moon, the stars
and some odd galaxy

But now, distant as I am
And wont to hide
I wonder if they scour the earth
And look for me

I just seen my footprints
In the snow
Good lord!
I walk funny
Like the left leg
Doesn't like the right
And won't look it in the eye
The problem is the hip
Denuded of articulate cartilage
The grind and weakness
Make my gait so obvious
If it gets much worse
I'll be walking round in circles
Getting more pathetic
Like an inverted turtle
When I look down
At the frosty prints
It's really quite a shock
If you want to know what time it is
It's always nine o clock.

Joe the red ate lots of bread.
His massive gut was quite well fed.
So slow his feet, to cross the street,
that angry drivers wished him dead.