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A poet’s not born, he is made,

So learn all the tricks of the trade.

     I hope that you may

     Become famous one day –

And, with luck, perhaps you’ll be paid.

 

You should learn about iambic feet.

They’re rhythmic and ever so sweet;

      Trochees go TROchee

      And they rhyme with jocky.

See, it's simple! There’s no need to cheat!

 

Anapaests go diddy-DUM –

And dactyls?  A waltz you can hum.

      So with pen in your hand,

      And your subject well-planned

I feel sure a good poem will come.

 

Good poets gain fame when they’re dead.

This fact, though well known, isn’t said.

     Show the world your true light

     And make sure it shines bright!

Then do something more useful instead!

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Copyright on all my poems

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