Bad poetry - and beauty everywhere!
I read the thoughts of the enchanted hearts
that yoke the mind to the appointed task
of formulating an expression, fair
and faithful, that displays the shortfall there
from what it contemplated; though the sparks
may fly, they die; but what, it seems, outlasts
the effort is the passion – beauty’s flair!
The class act, beauty's own appreciation,
is gift bestowed to human heart and reason:
but there's the rub! - For so it then becomes
imagination's boast that heart succumbs
to, builds a golden calf for mind to worship,
calls it poetry -- and beauty lets slip.