In honor of National Poetry Month, I offer:
When I was young, I learned that poems rhyme.
And so, when I discovered that my Best Beloved wrote poems
as lyrical as de la Mare, and more meaningful than Causley
but which did not rhyme
I was somewhat taken aback.
Was it poetry?
Not being one to care what the dictionary had to say on the topic,
I searched, instead, my soul,
to see if this was poetry.
While there, I found that, not only was it poetry
but that there were several poems of my own
cowering there, afraid to come out into the light
because they knew not what Iambic Pentameter might be,
and were afraid of the scorn of the Madding Crowd.
So, is this a poem?
I’m relieved to discover that I no longer care.