Poems

There is something about poetry

that lends itself to melancholy.

That leads the mind to be morose,

To draw misery and sorrow close.

But apply a little thought around,

Something brighter can be found.

Every rhyme can be a quip,

every verse becomes a hit,

Of something just to lift one up,

More sure than wine in a cup.

So I wrote this as an aide memoire.

Serious poems are not all there are.