I mumble in verse
for Will was my teacher
and Em was my nurse.
My quill dips in fountains
of eloquent ink
and beautiful etchings
for Poe was my shrink.
I farmed with my Tennyson
planting the seed,
I studied my Cummings
(old e.e.), indeed…
“anyone lived” is a
poetry force…
and as for my Kipling,
I’ve kipled, of course.
I’ve mingled and mangled
with many a bard,
I will be a poet
it can’t be that hard.
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