John F Keane’s Grim but Good: The Poetry Circle (Version) by GM Jon

The eager circle waits with bated breath Around the hall of meter, form and rhyme; All poets yearning for a golden wreath To rule the peaks of art, for all of time.   The meeting starts, and lightning stalks the hall As polished words strike visions from the air – Yet passion quickens when the shadows fall And poets plumb the depths that few can dare.   ‘Grim but good’ is how we do things here: Grimness far surpasses hollow cheer!   Grim but good – The circle’s guiding call; Grim but good – Such joyous pain; Grim but good – The greatest art of all; Grim but good – A darkling fame   The golden circle drains the cup of gloom – A heady brew of loss, regret and pain; Then take their bags and leave the wounded room Until the next month brings them back again.   ‘Grim but good’ is how we do things here: Grimness far surpasses hollow cheer!   ‘Grim but good’ is how we do things here: Grimness far surpasses hollow cheer!