"P" - a poem by Florence Liberfarb...

Poetry, I thought happened only

to other people.

From poetry,

most abbreviated of arts,

wasted Autumn leaves,

I stayed aloof

until the letter “P”

impinged on me.

Then began the torrent

and I knew

poetry was a mad thing,

a bad thing,

a sad thing.

"P" by Florence Liberfarb

Jingles jangled the nerves.

Rhymes rattled the mind

and free verse was worse.

P,,, P,,, P…

What are you doing to me

with your piddle, paddle, poodle,

popcorn, peppercorn, paddywack?

What poems with “P”,

but would they buy

a loaf of bread,

or peace?

Florence Liberfarb writes poetry, short stories and plays. You may freely republish this poem for non-commercial use provided you follow the Publisher Guidelines and provide a hyperlink (electronic media) to the Wordly Web Site. You may not alter the copyright notice or edit the content of this poem. Please notify the author of your intent to republish. Commercial use of this poem requires written permission and payment of a royalty.

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Poems, Stories, and Plays by

Florence Liberfarb