George makes a meal of my poetry

Poetry that sweet syrup caller, that narcotic for the teetotaler
Oh words that bring fantasy and force the world to collide with dreams
That we may ignore the ill will and create rhyme to please
If it were not for poetry, what would become of me?

Proposals from the critics reign,
 new modern ways of enabling the healthy status quo to become even more voracious than former periods of sponsored mediocrity!

By goodness I think you've done it cat. Yes you have, it's a deadly six stanza bonanza of well conveyed prose. The profoundest of which only few can feel or even know.

Thanks dear George Miehle
Faith wouldn't mean as much without you