Very Little with Much

 I had the thought of a poem in which, 

I'd say very little with much

and I'd talk and tap and turn and twist,

but my words would but kick up dust.


I had a thought of a poem for which,

I'd make a good bit of noise,

and I'd romp and blast and banter and spit, 

but my words would have no poise.


I had a thought of a poem for which, 

I'd have very little to say,

and I'd write and whittle and draw and fiddle,

but my words would be but a play. 


I wrote that poem, now just now,

in the words I wanted to write it

and it had three parts and an ending,

and it ended with the word 'goodbye'. 

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