Throwing Down the Gauntlet - ode to the competition poem

The gauntlet had been thrown The challenge had been set And with a fair amount of vigour The contest had been met From a dozen different pens The artistic steam it rose From keyboards, pencils, laptops Came both poetry and prose Brain cells fizzed and bubbled The best descriptive words to find Each writer had a concept An idea within his mind A thousand different words Poured forth around the world Into each and every poem Metaphoric sweat was hurled Each poet met the task ahead With individual flair And the embryo of idea Flourished with loving care Nurtured by the poets hand The challenge poem grew A healthy flow of meaning With perhaps some humour too The poetry came pouring in From all around the earth Editor’s desks were full Of busy poets giving birth Each poem entered in the world Fresh with new ideas And laid itself out for display And approval of its peers Every competition entry Hoped to shine above the rest Eager to be chosen As the poem that was best Now the entries had been sent All the waiting could begin Some poets crossed their fingers While others prayed to win Finally comes the day The poets have waited for Hoping for a letter Waiting anxiously by the door At last the postman comes The tortured poet sheds a tear Nothing there but bills Oh well, perhaps next year! Written November 14th, 2001 © on Nov 13 2001 11:42 PM PST   0 • 10