Poetic License: An April fool for poetry
An April Fool was I for poetry,
For jests and tricks and play with irony,
Fooling the Muse with rhyme tomfoolery —
Every verse footloose, every fancy free.
Until a world too wise and wide for me
Turned my fool’s errand into odyssey
To roam as far as my mind’s eye could see
Horizons glowing with discovery.
No fool am I now for poetry,
For mindless myth and made-up history,
The “cruelest month” now kind as kind can be,
And poetry’s no longer a fool for me.