Puddles - A Deeply Sensitive Poem
My Poetry Mentor has asked me
To try a bit harder to write
A poem that he would consider
Not too long, but metrically right.
I said I’d attempt one, to please him,
And rose to the challenge at once;
For his standards are really exacting
And I’d hate him to think me a dunce.
He gave me a subject to work with
And the subject and title is “Puddles”
And the joy, if there is one, of Splashing;
But here came the first of my muddles.
For in English we are slightly restricted
By words that rhyme nicely with Puddles
There’s Muddles which I used in the last verse
And three more, Huddles, Befuddles and Cuddles.
And then to add injury to insult
When searching for rhymers for Splashing.
They all were too violent for kiddies;
Like Bashing and Thrashing and Crashing.
There were worse ones, like Lashing and Slashing
And Gnashing and Stashing and Trashing
So the best of the lot, and like it or not,
Was that old and reliable Dashing.
So I started in some trepidation
Some evocative verse to compose
Like you’d find on a Card, as in Greeting,
When a spectre before me arose.
My Mentor had told me that NEVER
Should verses have more than four lines,
And it’s stringent that FOUR or FIVE verses
A really nice poem defines.
So this is the one I’ve come up with
Does it meet each poetic decree?
And does it reflect, what he’d come to expect
Since he first thought to educate me?
It seems silly and pointless and stupid
But as all (or most) puddles are free,
And if splashing is fun, I implore every one,
Go on! Splash all you want… but exclude me.