A Favorite Poem

Ah, poetry. Yes. I read a lot of it when I was young - Shakespear, Elliot, Cummings, Dickenson, Whitman, on and on. One source provided a good deal of fodder for my poetic thirst. Here's one I recall by heart from that source.

They said it couldn't be done

And he with a grin replied

I'll not be one to say

"It couldn't be done"

Till I've gone and tried.

So he buckled right in

With a trace of a grin

By golly he went right to it

And he tried that thing 

That "coudn't be done"

And you know what?

He couldn't do it.

from Mad Magazine to which I'll be forever grateful