Do NOT give me that look.
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMM...)
It's Tuesday. Choc'late smeared on my page hence
Swears I had better things to do, t'avail
Me on this page of French Silk Pie's detail
A mock'ry of the lines I'd mulled, pretense
Now chortling oer my failure who had sense
Enough where I'd no time to scribble. Frail
As writing over choc'late stains, bewail
The loss of pretty lines I'd thought were whence.
What AM I s'posed to know? I'd time as twere
Yet yielded to a fav'rite flick. I knew
That was unwise, but lines hid frae me fer
A time I'd later wish not wasted. Blue
Skies scant these days, grey racks which Autumn'd stir
For flavour what I cherish, LORD, where to?
22Sep26
-
Author:
Chic George (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 29th, 2026 22:47
- Comment from author about the poem: What's left to add?
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
- In collections: None of Your Beeswax.
Offline)
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