Marianne Moore’s Twist Of Sour Lemon

A toad in an imaginary garden lurks there
To surprise trespassers entering without a care
Marianne Moore’s been there
With a twist of sour lemon, she wrote to share.

For Ms. Moore wrote poetry that truly matters
Not just words on pages that splatter
And leave no image to behold
Of the message to be told.

In her garden, green and blooming
Was a touch of reality looming,
Hiding there for the uninitiated
To become at once, fixated.

A piece of earth unprotected by a fence
Into which one by happen-chance
Can enter and become aware
That Marianne Moore’s been there.

Poetry is real when it shows
That in the world, nothing goes
Perfect, and without blemish
From Life’s rough and tumble, from start to finish.

s