Ars Poetica. The art of writing poems about writing poems.

The clock ticks toward a fresh year’s ink,
A blank page waiting for thought to drink.
What better way to start anew,
Than writing lines that write of you?

The poem begins in a humble way,
A spark of light from a waning day.
It stumbles forward, unsure, untrimmed,
A metaphor lost, a rhyme half-dimmed.

But poetry—oh, it finds its breath,
Through awkward starts and quiet death.
It resurrects in the stroke of a pen,
A phoenix rising from thought again.

What is a poem but a mirror’s gaze,
Reflecting back on life’s tangled maze?
In 2025, we craft, we spin,
A fresh perspective from deep within.

So here’s to words that twist and dance,
To leaps of meter and chance romance.
For writing poems is to write the year,
To capture moments, to hold them near.

A New Year’s toast to verse divine,
To making meaning in every line.
And may each poem—like each day shown—
Teach us something of our own.

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