Wake with a Start

Now you’re ready. You’ve napped
And you’ve surveyed the day
And you’ve seen nothing worth

Your trouble to pilfer.
Hikers shout from a cliff
And a passenger jet

Crosses the sky, roaring.
If fairytales defy
The rules for good stories,

What existing genre
Of poetry defies
The rules for writing poems?

There are no real rules, no,
But you know what we mean.
Expectations for what

Makes a meaningful poem,
Makes poetry you like,
Reads like good poetry.

So many ways to be
Bad, but where’s the genre,
Enduring and sturdy

As wonder tale fiction,
That stands in distinction
To good advice for poems?

Light verse? Nursery rhymes?
Another plane passes.
The hikers stop shouting.