That ain't poetry Neal... that's just excellent manipulation of our written
language.
Something you failed to grasp let alone master.

This is poetry:

This is my poem about a skunk
That little black & white punk
When he gets mad he stinks .. Phew!
If you don't run you might turn Blue.

by Capt Mooron (circa 1963)
[written many years ago when I was in grade 3]

CM


"Simple Simon" wrote in message
...
| You don't do poetry????? Ya coulda fooled me . . .
|
| What do you call this? Bwahahahahhahahahahah!
|
| | "Capt. Mooron" wrote in message
| ...
| |
| | ... a Muskox hide... deliriously soft and comfortable... the
sensation
| that
| | can only be appreciated on actual contact. It envelopes you in
warmth,
| | luxury and delicious sensuality. An ice bucket stuffed with
champagne
| and
| | the primal fervor evoked from a crackling fire... hypnotic and
evoking.
| An
| | ice age cold that encompasses the wilderness, staved by the
penetrating
| | warmth of a gentle caress. Wicked nothings whispered against the
wind's
| | howling screams of protest beyond the log cabin door. Sensations,
| Seductions
| | and Sweet excess!
| |
| | To be nowhere and everywhere.....
| |
| | See what happens when the sea mends me in her icy grip..... I am
once
| more
| | at one!
| |
| | CM
|
|
|