For some reason or other, many of my mates have suddenly discovered poetry and, with great gusto, have added a poet’s handbook to their communication bag of tricks.
Not wishing to be left out of the mix I thought that today, just once, I’d try my hand at writing poetry but confess that the result can only be described as ‘doggerel’ but never the less, here it goes:-
It seems to me that poetry,
is now the only place to be
cause all my mates, it’s what they’ve chose
and most of it is on the nose.
Some just don’t rhyme , so,
perhaps its time
to dump the pen till Christmas time.
Some wrote of heaven, some of hell
their stories somehow didn’t gell
I much preferred ‘Poor Little Nell’
in fact I memorised it well.
Then ‘Poor Little Angeline’
soon became my heroine
then add a limerick, why not three
politically correct, I’ll never be
and that’s the only ‘poetry’,
you’ll ever, ever get from me.
Hoo roo for now.