H B J
by cricketjeff on January 2, 2010. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
A coal black crow becomes a witch’s soul
An artist finds she has the gift to write
In time she’ll find a way she can be whole
And banish ancient demons into night
A supplicant before her Percy’s throne
She’s found that she can try his favoured style
It’s taken time but how her talent’s grown
She’s been a real poet for a while
A teacher too, she leads the sonnet class
And badgers those whose meter runs away
Miss out your count she’ll boot you up the arse
Then praise enough you’ll try another day
Do not forget you’re one of us not them
This poem wishes Happy Birthday Jem
Author notes
Good on you, 29 again?
arse and class are pure rhymes for me, but others may prefer ass/class
English