
Sometimes a poem is a sudden tear You never know when and why it will rise Sometimes a poem is a vivid daydream It appears in color before your wide-open eyes Sometimes a poem is a fine sculpture You can chisel it into a beautiful shape Sometimes a poem is a lofty tower You can erect it into a soaring sky-scape Sometimes a poem is a naughty little girl Who mocks at you from behind a half-open door Sometimes a poem is a game of hopscotch Like skipping through patterns drawn on a floor Sometimes a poem is a playful lover Who creeps up behind you and says “Guess who?” Sometimes a poem is a bashful bride Tiptoeing tentatively toward an eager you Sometimes a poem is an April shower That makes the flowers in your garden bloom Sometimes a poem is a swing in the park That cradles you and lifts you away from your gloom We poets have a secret that is all our own One that we have never before shared with you Poems, like saplings, sprout on their own Laboring over them is a thing we seldom do!