The Art of Poetry.
© January 15, 2000 by Paul M. Combs, Jr. All Rights Reserved

Quite sometime has come to pass,
Since words have flowed to rhyme.
I started writing as a gas,
Sometimes just to pass the time.

It’s not that the words were long forgotten,
Or were never to be found
The words were always available to me,
But I would hardly be around.

I kept with the power of suggestion,
I still dabble in my own obsession.

I still believe that I am a poet.
Though it is up to me to let you know it.