Of Flint, Be
Would my words ignite, if I of flint, be ?
Would my verse billow, if west winds blew free ?
Would rhymes ring loudly, as iron strikes steel ?
Would my muse enthuse, if less wordy, feel ?
Would couplets surface, if in magma, yet ?
Would rhythm inspire, if no fuse, be set ?
Would craters irrupt, or heaven's poems, spew ?
Would Earth's mantel crack, if posies were true ?
Could I attest these improbable dreams -
Will you see through my insidious schemes ?
Ronald C. Downie