The Crux

It's a poet who knows that God rhymes with fraud
And entrepreneur with the manure
Where the ambitious farmer will trod
Ensuring the lettuce will "romaine" impure.
And poets also know which euphemisms
Get used to sweeten the bombast,
Like the chrisoms used in baptisms
To improve the afterlife forecast.
Early they learn on the nature of things
And what can and cannot be done.
Especially near tyrannical kings
Who get jealous when their subjects have fun.
But poets know best that all is not lost
To garish prelates or barbaric jihad.
They know great thoughts, like Jesus, must be crossed
For a hint at what it's like to be god.
And surely beings would be more divine
Had they concept comparisons like mine!
They are the crux of interesting souls
And are how a Midnight Sonneteer rolls!