in feet of snow
on wings of miles
by travelling
I found my ways
to be with you
in hearts and hearths
on Christmas Eve
and other days
and when the dark
comes gathered in
and spooky winds
blow candles out
I cupped my hands
about your ears
and whispered:
DAMN!!!
I almost had a poem, there. Fast as I could type it, a genuine poem!
Crap.
and whispered...
and whispered...
NOBODY CHIME IN! I'm not reading ANY COMMENTS on this one!
Not 'til I figure this.
I'm not looking for a rhyme, I'm trying to find a reason.
17 comments:
"what's all this about?"
"time for the title bout!"
...?
"You ain't got the clout!"
doubt. Something with doubt would be good!
Ah, the creative process. The vicissitudes of the creative process.
eout. No.
"You smell like DAN FOUTS!"
"have you any trouble with GOUT?"
Howt. Howt. Howt.
Nah, not getting anything.
"Darling, I'm a lout."
Dang, that sort of contradicts the mood of the piece.
"Darling, please don't pout!"
PFAAUGH. InSIPid.
"it was quite a rout!"
"you're looking rather stout."
"But I'm not one to tout."
My poetic skills, that is.
W...
X...
Yowt?
Zout!
Crap.
Darling, you can't rhyme OUT with OUT! This is not a song by the Counting Crows, it is an installment of Your Humble POET!
WE HAVE STANDARDS HERE TO UPHOLD!! VITAL POETIC ISSUES WHICH MUST NEEDS BE DEALT WITH!
Hey I bet that poem would look great in all caps.
Have a great weekend RJW!
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