In the Conceit of a Poem

~
By its shapes,
how it smells,

and by looking
to tell

all the whats,
wheres and whens

to the senses,

a poet survives
by bringing alive

all those thats,
theres and thens

to the pensées.

And all, by deceit!

Word-verbiage feat!

Ah well.
What the hell.

What’s the metaphor for,
but conceit.

And you thought it,

Oh!

only so sweet.
~

©2015, Marvin Welborn
21 June 2015. Revised 30 July 2015

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