Edward A. Morris
Edward A. Morris Poems
“Don't tell your love, ” the sage advised,
“Or you will never get her.”
“Well said! ” the swain soliloquized,
“But silence works no better.”
Poetry That Isn't
What wafting of wisdom! Such saccharine sound!
Deft diction's depictions, opaque and profound!
So ruminants rumble and mumble and seek
To mine out much marrow, obtuse and oblique.
My constant conundrum's more crude and perverse:
I strive not to retch at such wretched non-verse.
Fair finery flops if its form foully flows:
Each clash, pull, and smash smells of emperor's clothes.