An attempt at existentialism. For some reason, “rimy ground” has always jumped out at me as being perfectly placed here.  

Many times the way I start a poem 
Is by thinking first of its name, 
Some playful twist of words will do, 
Or maybe a bold, colorful claim. 
 
Like the way a jockey’s riding crop, 
Whips him across the rimy ground, 
That’s what a clever title does for me: 
It sends me snorting for the Downs. 
 
But more than that, a name may coax 
People to actually read 
The illuminating lines that follow — 
Lines quite similar to these.