For class we had to make a response to the poem by Archibald MacLeish 'Ars Poetica', whether poetic or not. I decided a poem best fit for me and I managed to piece this together. Please enjoy.
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The Art of Poetry
The gentle feel of a spring breeze
Passing wistfully through the leaves,
That is what a poem is to me.
Words flowing free -
Water rolling downstream
Warmed by sunshine's golden beam.
The brush of fingertips
When illness grips,
A warm and welcoming smile
That carries you a mile -
Timeless as the look
Glanced from your nook;
Caught by chance
With your first romance.
The simple beauties of this world
Precious memories unfurled
All laid bare for us to see.
That is what a poem is to me.
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