Poetry

Is poetry but an oyster?
For on the shore of songs they roister
When the waves of the main carried touch
Less its pack but hits hard to fetch
the point of it and latch
In a net of pearls and food.
Is poetry but an oyster?
For it comes up in seasons moister
And costly it becomes as edibles
You uncover its mystery or you know not at all.

Copyright: Welkin Siskin