Saturday, 17 May 2014


The reader might be bored or unimpressed,
or reading this at somebody’s behest,
a stranger to the wiles of Mistress Verse;
whose first response to poetry is terse;
who fears the shame of not quite understanding;
who fears that poetry is too demanding,
yet somehow dull and lifeless too. He might
(or ‘she’ if girl you are) be more than right
to say that poetry’s just silly stuff;
to say that ten lines constitutes ‘enough’.