Dancing With Words Poem by Glenn Bagshaw

This modern step of time may turn my phrase-
but now attend- see language as bequeathed.
What sweep of lines from Homer's waltzing days
shall partner me? Stride quick the speech received
and kick and om-pah life-for what's now said?
Slick greetings (ice!) . Each science calls us names.
Blue epithets accuse, while we're all read;
Lear's the rage. Our scripts' drag in stage-left games...
But with this dance, this dance that sways in me,
new loves may move to touch. Sensations sing.
But 'loves'? - steps slip in verbal sophistry-
There's never more of every just one thing.
Modern terms convey, mostly all polls said,
body of knowledge- -bound hard-cover- dead.