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Enter the temple of poetry. Pray.
Be a disciple of our mystic Prince;
his words – our law – ones we’ll always obey.
Blazon your poems with metaphors that play
in your mind. Don’t lose them in the abyss.
Enter the temple of poetry. Pray.
The Ace of assonance will offer aid,
like a nurse, should a simile you miss.
His words – our law – ones we’ll always obey.
Alliteration – petty price to pay;
felicity, fulfillment, bare the bliss.
Enter the temple of poetry. Pray
to the verse god with his dazzling array
of dactyls or anapests. Your thoughts, his.
His words – our law – ones we’ll always obey.
O! Temple built of sonnets, rhymes, evince
ardor for scriptures of our mystic Prince.
Enter the temple of poetry. Pray
His words – our law – ones we’ll always obey.
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