The Penultimate Poem
The Penultimate Poem as written by me
With my ultimate pen – but there’s a problem that I just didn’t see;
And it’s this: It’s the last day of April, I feel such a fool,
I lost the sense of timing, forgot the golden rule,
That April hath but thirty days… ooops!
So, this is still my Penultimate Poem, my last but one…
Before my next poem, the Ultimate One!
But, deary me, what is the one after that to be?
Is there such a thing as an Ante-ultimate poem, I ask?
Or a Post-Ultimate one? Or some literary term that fits a name to the task?
I think I have made an error in calculation;
Missed the elation that the last day of our journey will sing
Now our poetical month is nearly up. One thing
More… What next? What will tomorrow bring?
April the thirty-first will see my thirst to write a poem
About thirty-one sheiks, or invertebrate breaks,
Or whatever takes my fancy. Chancy topics from the sub-tropics;
Odes from abodes or lyrics about clerics…
What will I do? What will you?
Perhaps make a brew…
Fancy a cuppa?
And a biscuit or two?
And then there’s April thirty-two…