Every third Wednesday we meet. Every third Wednesday we attempt to hone our craft. Stretching beyond rhyme, metre and description to tanka, cento, haiku, and abecedarium while we sip frothy cappuccinos, or perhaps indulge in cake, we go on a journey. When the blending of our words seems like rubbish, we laugh. When they fall flat, we groan and move on. Every now and then, someone will read a poem and we all sit still, poised in silent surrender to the soaring of our spirits and we are grateful for the places that poetry takes us. "Most pleasing of all is the profusion of poetic styles and...