Framed, Fenced & Bound Poem by Dean Meredith

The paintings of the past had frames
Elaborate and quite ornate
Even gaudy often and at times
Mostly gold, some silver, others black
And there were browns & whites & greys

Then jigsaws came & went & stayed
They had borders too, all colours
But usually part of the picture they portrayed
Starting, not end points, boundaries if you will
Hints and places for edges & corner pieces

Photographs have frames but less and less
Glasses, formerly known as spectacles, do too
Mostly black now, silver, brown, gold
Now even red or green or yellow or blue
But some have none, only lenses to see through

Books were bound in animal skins
Leather kept them strong and safe
Now it's rare though some still do
Hard covers once all the rage
Slowly replaced by soft

Poems seem to have gone a similar way
Crafts change but hopefully remain
Images like music in our minds
We hum the chorus and refrain
Notes as footsteps through our day

Constraints and forms are helpful
But only to a certain point
Fences keep us in & others out
How safe we are so bored
Plotting our secret escape

Waiting for someone to cut the wire
To crash or smash or blow our walls
Maybe free us once and for all
Imagine art and artists then
And the thoughts we'd be able to see