The trouble with poetry

The trouble with poetry

When you don't write a poem for a while,

the thought of rhymes may make you smile.

Yet if you've heard

a discouraging word

limericks can make you run a mile!


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  • But it wasn't a limerick. Was that AW's job?

  • In reply to jack:

    Far be it from me to trespass on the territory of our friend Aquinas.
    As for this post being a limerick, I never said (or wrote) that it was -- I just referred to what limericks can make one do.

  • In reply to Margaret H. Laing:

    True, but I thought something was missing.

  • Thanks for an inspiring post!

    Now, in October, the ivy turns
    but the cinder-colored sun still burns.
    For some, it's baseball playoff season...
    for others, there's another reason
    to turn on the radio.
    It's hockey season, too, you know.
    Forget debates and crashing bores---
    it's face-off time--"he shoots, he scores!"

  • In reply to Weather Girl:

    Thank you for a genuine laugh out loud.
    "He shoots, he scores!" is one of the better parts of October in my book -- provided "he" is wearing a Chicago sweater at the time, of course.

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