The Poetry Judge!

Anthologies were his domain, His publisher to serve, Yet other poets he would strain Throughout their learning curve... So he threw out above and love And true and blue and you, Because he'd simply had enough And yearned for something new... Apostrophes would drive him mad When missing now and then, He sighed aloud as if quite sad And threw out these again... But treasure waited in the pile Received each day by post, Perhaps a gem to make him smile With perfect style for most... One morning came and full of sighs He chanced to read some verse That started well, the prose seemed wise, Proceeding to get worse! He tore that poem into shreds Then put it in the bin, The sort of sonnet that one dreads And patience then draws thin... But then, it happened, joy at last! A nugget of pure gold! All others there it had outclassed! Behold! Behold! Behold! He read it once, he read it twice, He checked each word, each line, The punctuation very nice, The sentiments divine... Ten out of ten! It made his day! He got some copies done! At home, he put them on display, Read there by everyone! His son was pleased, his daughter, too! His wife was thrilled as well! That poem joined the chosen few He didn't put through Hell...