The Grinch ponders poetry
with his Grinch-feet
ice cold in the snow,
stood puzzling and puzzling.
How could it be so?
It came without ribbons,
It came without tags.
It came without packages,
boxes or bags.
And he puzzled and puzzled
and puzzled.
‘till his puzzle was over.
Then the Grinch
thought of something he
hadn’t before.
“What if Poetry, he
pondered, doesn’t come
from a store.
What if Poetry perhaps
means a little bit more.”
Minimally modified (see italics) By Alan Grace
25 October 2017
Also see The Grimerick.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=04_gGu3-_1w
Reblogged this on Word Play … Poetry in Progress and commented:
Daily prompt: puzzled.
You may like to try some of my puzzles:
https://aaamazingsite.wordpress.com/2017/06/29/my-competitions-index/