I can stack books on a card table and though it does what I want it to do I cannot call the table a bookshelf. I can build a bookshelf and though it too will hold books I cannot call it a good bookshelf necessarily. If I learn the trade of cabinet making or carpentry then the thing that holds the books will go from good to the best example of the form of a bookshelf. Poetry is in essence the same. It does what a poem in its basics is supposed to do but is it good.
Poetry is a language, a language of emotions.
To those who write it, the language is an understanding of life that might not necessarily be understood by those who read what is written. Poetry comes in various forms and that is what this short piece will try to show. I hope it arouses a desire to search for more about what goes into making this language so colourful. Some forms of this language are the Sonnet , and Villanelle , which allow emotions to be strong. The Limerick is a form that allows the language to smile and laugh.