In search of the perfect poem.

(I am finding it hard to be serious tonight)

Not on the fair land
Or in the green sea
Nor the cover of sky
Or on hot desert sand

Not in the fen 
Below the brine
Or among the vine
Not in the glen

Niether the lake
Or the deep lough
Not among quarry rock
Or grasses that quack.

I searched high moors
Not in the downs
Not under ground
Or in vacant doors

Not found south
Nor west
Or east
Nor in the north

I seached the equator
I combed the poles
Dug deep holes
Examined crators.

Went to Peru
Up Machu Picchu
Then I came home
And I found you.

© Dave Kavanagh @ daithiocaomanaigh.com

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