The poet is a creature fey
Who dreams up clever rhymes all day
And always uses words outré
To woo his lover.
He walks upon iambic feet,
Inflects his speech with dactyls neat;
His heart throbs with trochaic beat
And leaps in spondee.
Beware of amphibrachic smiles
And whispered catalectic wiles;
A muse unwary he beguiles
With every sonnet.
If he should offer you amor,
Heroic couplets by the score,
Poetic licenses galore–
Give him caesura.
by Matthew Hanna
Copyright © 2011 by the author
May be copied for church or personal use. All other rights reserved.