WHAT IS POETRY?
Poetry is as precise as geometry. --Gustave Flaubert
It is finding the truth, no need to lie.
It's munching on watermelon and letting seeds fly.
It's a letter that comes with a card in the mail.
It's the lacy silver threads left by a garden snail.
It's daffodil trumpets covering the hill.
It's a deer at the creek, drinking her fill.
It's giggling and laughing and being absurd.
It's reading a haiku and feeling each word.
It's a dragon who blows flames, loud and hardy.
It's fairies in the garden having a tea party.
It's the sound of a truck shifting its gears.
It's the feel of two soft puppy ears.
It's a bright sun rise and glowing moon shine.
It's a Carolina wren singing in a Lob-lolly pine.
It's a snowman rolled on a cold winter morn.
It's crows calling from tall tasseled corn.
It's the whisper of hummingbird wings in the air.