The Perfect Poem

Well almost.

The Perfect Poem

What indeed makes a poem perfect?
         Is it form shaped by reflection,
                   Or perhaps it is pure pleasure?
                   Maybe the meter is the measure,
          That will make the poem perfection.
Oh, to create without defect!

Could be it is no lack of rhyme
         Or yet, is it the voiced inflection
                   That brings us to poetic beauty?
                   Think you know? Then do your duty:
         Tell me what assures selection,
Of words that form a poem sublime.

For I do not know, that is true.
         My fate could be to write in prose,
                   Yet poetry is where my heart beats.
                   Its beauty my rude skill cheats.
         Still one desire in my heart grows:
To pen a perfect poem for you.

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