Caveat Poem by Edgar Eslit

Son, sort of caution, I say
No foul languages in poetry
Good poetry doesn’t need any
In prose, all you need is to facilitate words in good array
And in poetry, consider the rhymes, imagery and emotions all together
That would redefine a poem from a slander
Did you ever wonder?
Hear ye, not in ode, oh dear…
For muses and nymphs,
Citadels and pillars confer.

Thoughts ably recurring,
While the golden ink devours in symbolisms
it conceals our breath in an undated paper.