This poem is based on a dim memories of poems I read decades ago, including Eve Merriam's "How to Eat a Poem." If you know of another source, let me know, and I'll give credit.
Some poems are slippery snakes
Slithering out of your grasp.
Some are stately buildings
With firmly fluted columns.
Others are otters playing in a pool,
Twisting joyously end-over-end.
Still others are elegant Tiffany eggs,
Precious, but without substance.
All revel in the wonder of words
Artfully arranged and carefully cropped.
There are doubtless many different languages in the world, and none is without meaning...
--1 Corinthians 14:10