This is a poem without words,
Like a bird without feathers,
or perhaps, like a postman without any letters,
this is a poem without words.
You may think it strange, or even a bore,
but the words of my poem, they fell to the floor,
My dog licked them up, and swallowed them whole,
Much like he does with the food in his bowl.
Words can be slippery, and fall off the page,
When trying to jest or write like a sage,
To little meaning, and they fall right to the ground,
but morsels of goodness to a sweet hungry hound.
I say all this, in my humble defense,
I’m better at rhyme, than making much sense,
So I wrote you this poem, without any words,
Without any postman, or feathers or birds.
Poem by: Christina Dawson