A Poem Was Passing By

     Last night I was able to attend Stillwater Christian School's annual "For Such a Time as This" banquet. The evening was well organized, the food was good, the band played and the choir sang beautifully, and I was really looking forward to hearing Mike Huckabee speak. The only problem was that in the midst of all this merriment, I was having a poetry attack. Not a severe one. Just a pesky little poem trying to capture my attention when I wanted to give it fully to the event I was at. I found myself writing lines on the back of the program schedule just so they wouldn't distract me longer than necessary. That is the illustrious background of today's poem.

     

 A Poem Was Passing By

 A poem was passing by and caught me,

snagged me with its tempting hook

not enough to outright trip me,

just enough to make me look,    

studying the little thing,

wondering what it might mean.

Is it sad or sentimental,

anger filled or saccharine sweet,

or maybe it is just a story

laying dormant at my feet?

Should I pick it up and hold it

knowing all the work it means?

Twisting lines to create meter,

warping words to make them rhyme.

Maybe I should just release it,

pick it up and let it fly,

let the wind catch it, and free me

from a poem just passing by.