I love poetry. I’ve seen the good stuff, and the bad stuff and I love it all. I love the way an author can pack a world of description and emotion into a three line Haiku. I love the elegance and weight of the epic, the lyricism and music in a ballad. I love to laugh at limericks and groan over truly awful puns.

Back in the day (I’m not sure which day, I think it was in the late 1800s) poetry was a respected, even celebrated, medium of expression. In the current era, however, it seems to have lost some of the public support it once enjoyed as a genre and I think that is sad. It’s sad because poetry makes us think, makes us feel, helps us to realize that we are not alone. Like a cool drink of water, it gives us a moment to pause and reflect before moving on. In its very brevity (most of the time) it allows us space to breath. So I hope you’ll join me in a re-visitation, in a moment to drink, think and breath.


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