The verse

Wow, a verse can rhyme

or flow like a river

Have no effect and be wasted

or send, down the spine, a shiver.

String up a cluster of words

Flit over ideas like a bee

From vague and abstract,

To concrete objectives maybe.

A love expression, it could exist.

Or a strong action of protest

which, the ones who peruse it,

might very well detest.

None are short of classics

Many are masterpieces

Every one of them, but carry.

Of the writer, some slices.