First reading it, now writing it?

“Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar.” ~Percy Bysshe Shelley  

Write a poem that lifts the veil and makes the familiar unfamiliar. 

I do believe this Poetry workshop will be a definite stretch for my creative abilities, as Poetry is not exactly...my bag. Don't get me wrong, as I have mentioned, I happily provide feeble attempts at deciphering contemporary poetry and the grand array of new writers popping up like delectable little mushrooms. Unfortunately, when the pen is put in my hand and I am asked to create in this genre, I often revert back to kindergarten tactics, with childish rhyme schemes and silly imagery.

More often than not, I revert to being funny...because that's what I do best.

All right, then. Here goes. Lifting the veil:

[“Half past the hound’s leg”]
Rachel Pinkstone


Half past the hound’s leg,
noble purpose is spoiled 
by the day’s early waste.

August heat swells and
puckers; still, the air is too moist
for a spark.

Respect and function pass by
these proud pillars rounding 
every corner, alongside power-
walkers and bichons.

That is, until metal clangs and 
sinks cold between the joints, 
prying apart the Johnnie
on Second and Chester.

And, finally, when the pressure
is released and fluid rushes
forward, children squeal with 
delight and relief.

Originally titled, "For the love a Hydrant," I decided to leave and air of mystery in the first few stanzas as this is the only arena where the poem is accompanied by a visual.