Verb – an eager, tail-wagging little word,
running wide-eyed between its bigger brothers;
words such as conjunctions, prepositions.
One of grammar’s doers, never content to lie
supine, always knowing that action
speaks louder than other words.

Pronouns are full of their own importance;
adjectives are pure decoration and nouns
are merely appellations. The sturdy verb,
though, moves mountains, spins the galaxies
in their endless courses and propels the heart
through the cannon-mouth of emotion.

The verb is the jewel in grammar’s crown –
far superior to the common noun.

Bill Fitzsimons, Dublin-born and a relative new-comer in poetry terms, wrote his first poems in his late fifties. He is a founder member of a Leeds-based Irish writers group, Lucht Focail (Word People) and reads at venues in Leeds and elsewhere. He has been published in Poetry Monthly and Aireings and in three anthologies – The Fifth Province, Triple Spiral and Views from the Lighthouse, read on local radio and has just had his first pamphlet ‘Written on the Skin’ published by Otley Word Feast Press.