Who is in the kitchen
clattering poets with pans?
A critic of the written rhyme,
or avid poetry fans?
.
The poet receives a telling blow,
‘You’re shallow, and quite boring;
you have no skills at all!’
.
Not a thing a poet wants to know,
then he escapes into the hall.
.
‘I’ll have you know…
my rhymes are so—
good;
that my muse you cannot quell!’
.
‘You can stick your rhymes,
those awful crimes,
in some forsaken well!
.
The poet ran,
as poets can ,
away, and far, and over the hills;
and wherever it is he now works in a bar,
the customers’ drinks he spills.
Graeme Sandford 
Love it!
Thank you – one of my 5-minute works – just reread it, and it’s not ‘too’ bad. G:)
My brain doesn’t work that well. Some of my best poems come from sweat and tears. I don’t rhyme. I can’t rhyme. I doubt my poem ever rhyme. *sigh*
Rhymes are not the beall and endall- it!s more the rhythm and the chosen words that make a poem. My poems are better (allegedly) when read out loud (by me!) than on paper. The author always knows how the poem goes, the reader only seldom. G:)