1002

Like the world itself it seems

That lack of form ar stark

Obscurity must fill the waking dreams

Of those who seek the poet's art,

Or else they will be ostracised

For purile hack regurgitations

Short of thought behind the eyes -

Just vapid limp-wristed emanations -

But we who know the ordinary

Trying to capture what we see

In words that readers, dim or merry,

Will understand, sans degree

From Oxbridge - let alone a guide

Sent from above or Brian Sewell -

            Plod on, though we know we must hide

            Our genius from those who chide.

Brian Hick September 2011

©copyright Sally Hick 27.9.23