The Death of the Poet
by cricketjeff on January 18, 2011. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
Though men must succumb to the essence
Of life’s unrelenting senescence
With blatant mendacity
And morbid tenacity
We try to retain adolescence
And during this truculent ageing
Far too many people start raging
It’s not caustic youth
Who are lacking in couth
It’s fogies who lead the rampaging
I cannot deny all affinity
With age’s unpleasant vicinity
Hoarfrost on my tresses
Is proof of the stresses
As I’ve limped to almost infinity
It’s kismet I hear you exclaim
That I’ve missed my nebulous aim
I wanted enjoyment
Not boring employment
Before loam’s thrown over my frame
The bailiwick I shall inhabit
May ensoul a wandering rabbit
Of foppish demeanour
Who looks like he’s seen a
Dead poet exclaiming “Dag Nabbit!”
Author notes
OK so it doesn’t make much sense but I did get the words in
[Posts%20by%20cricketjeff%201_files/grin.gif]
OPTION ONE: INTERESTING WORD BANK (Use at least three or more words)
mendacity
bailiwick
senescence
affinity
caustic
couth
ensoul
foppish
hoarfrost
kismet
limped
loam
nebulous
succumb
truculent
I don’t think I’m up to using all three banks …
English