Comments by the Editors Poetry could be a song to which you get to put the music. Read Cobus' lines and try your ear. Once or twice, it's a dirge you may hear, But many more times, like a lark you will trill. For some, a pedagogical pomposity will ring clear, While others will fit the tune of a lyrical loon. Come, join the choir, and bash the drum, Strum the string, crash the cymbal. What a joyous noise, we all shall mingle.
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