Rhymes Against Reason

Jane was getting fed up

with rhymes before breakfast,

at meals, and during the day,

and she did say:

“I don’t suppose,

you could learn to speak prose!”

Well, it was certainly a shock,

and my confidence

it did knock

to realise that

I was a friend of the cat on the mat.

I worried, tried to think –

but I couldn’t be hurried –

what to do?

Like old Samuel Carew

(Whomever he was)

I could change

because, I wanted to.

Rearrange my vocabulary,

or be arrested by the poetry constabulary

do crimes I had committed,

and rhymes less omitted

were crimes seen to be heard

aka my poetry word

my voice

which was my speech of little choice.

Could I, would I, should I?

I doubt

there is an easy way out.

Perhaps I could speak poetry; but deliver it in the style of prose. Who knows if that will work; but, I may seem less of a dork… just more of a berk!