Poetry has the virtue
of reviving a diminishing mind,
like doing a crossword –
from the power of the words.
Other oldies use Sudoku to pass the time
and keep the mind alive -
a burden worse than watching paint dry
or grass grow. They have no words,
only soul-less numbers.
Therapy lies in the steps needed
to make a palace into a room
or visa versa from a cryptic clue.
The bends and mental gymnastics
to decipher anagrams
and drunken puzzles
are similar to those involved
in writing a poem, choosing line breaks
deciding which metaphor to keep,
which device of rhyme or metre
you wish to ditch.
Writing a Wordle poem
is a one-way ticket to insanity,
but that’s another story.
for the Sunday Whirl
also linked to Open Link Night at Real Toads