Poet Up a Tree
Saw a poet up a tree.
it was me. It was me.
Doggerel chased me up that tree.
It was doggerel, it was he.
Now, when I fell from that tree,
I fell on a mighty smart head.
He looked up. He looked down.
"Must have been gravity!" He said.
"I will need a calculus to figure it out.
But that was gravity, I have no doubt."
A squirming squirrel's squirrelly mind,
with holes to dig and nuts to find.
With the gravity of your poetry in mind,
nuggets of nutty wisdom you will find.
For as sure as the nut falls from the tree,
not far does the poet and his poetry.
So, if you're a nut and you know it,
you might be crazy or you might be a poet.
A poet and his words will soon be parted,
gone like the wind or someone who farted.
So if you have a theory to grind, get up,
get busy and climb, climb your behind.
The higher your treetop, the faller your fall,
below might be a genius to catch it all.
But if you can't be a poet up a tree,
just be the best poet you can be.
After all, it's just… poetry.
Copyright 2015 © Ronald W. Hull