Comments about Paul Amrod
It's The Poetry Of Life
It’s the poetry of life painting like the frost
on the tip of autumn’s breeze.
It’s the poetry of life found and never lost
Feeling comfortably at ease
Like a lazy summer’s day
Like two children lost in play
Like the story never told
from the yarn of times of old.
It’s the poetry of life bringing everything in view
Changing older thoughts to new
Warming winter’s bitter cold
As a storm comes raging through
to cleanse the atmospheric blues.
Improvising an esoteric line
to unleash the mysterious and sublime.
To guide our pathways as we cross
Hysterical Henrietta wore some rose-colored glasses
blowing soap bubbles like a nervy rambunctious kid.
Scratching her fingers across a chalked up blackboard
sending chills up my spine. She has a talent and outdid
the entire competition being very thrilled to annoy.
All of her piggy-bank savings she tended to hoard.
So slimy and greedy she was not to be outbid
Greasy and gaudy with a plastic smile as she sasses
the children like a great-aunt who wore corduroy.