about this time yesterday night
conditions seemed to be just right
to pick some words, to make them rhyme
in simple metronomic time
there are no patterns in these deeds
no metaphors or hidden seeds
just rhyming words all in a row
they come as fast as ink can flow
when i was young i wrote much more
i'd lay stretched out upon the floor
with pen in hand and words in head
and little thought to what i said
i have no reason why i write
it's not from sadness, fear, or spite
more likely 'cause i like the sound
of metered rhyming words around
conditions seemed to be just right
to pick some words, to make them rhyme
in simple metronomic time
there are no patterns in these deeds
no metaphors or hidden seeds
just rhyming words all in a row
they come as fast as ink can flow
when i was young i wrote much more
i'd lay stretched out upon the floor
with pen in hand and words in head
and little thought to what i said
i have no reason why i write
it's not from sadness, fear, or spite
more likely 'cause i like the sound
of metered rhyming words around
2 comments:
i like the sound of words from you,
you make them sound all shiny and new
i'm not so good i'm sad to say
but reading yours makes it okay
love you so much, yer mom
Sandy!!! ROCKIN' POEM! I love it. And I love yours, too, Patrick. Something so freeing and truly creative to just write for the pure joy of it, the beauty of it...there is a genius there.
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