The beauty of grammar, so often ignored, 
Is a treasure trove waiting to be explored.
Its rules, a canvas, a tool in our hand, 
To shape thoughts, to create, and to command.

Iambic feet, a beat like a heart, 
A rhythm that sets grammar worlds apart. 
A pentameter, five feet on each line, 
A form that helps words flow in a divine rhyme.

Grammar, a structure to guide our speech, 
A way to express, and in meaning to teach. 
It's a tool to build sentences so grand, With clarity, precision, and a crafted hand.

From subject, verb, to punctuation's mark, 
Grammar helps us tell tales in the dark. 
It's the glue that holds our words in place, 
And gives them meaning with grace, and with grace.

Oh, beauty of grammar, so often unseen, A gift to mankind, a true work of a queen. 
It may seem small, but it holds great might, 
In its mastery, our words take flight.

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