A Poet’s Fantasy

June 17, 2009

Firing on all cylinders
Lord Byron entertained
As the ladies swooned and sighed
I just felt well drained.

Shelley pulled up a chair
His comforting warm smile
Made me feel so welcome
I always liked his style.

Keats was looking troubled
Coleridge was out his head
Mr Eliot teased the cats
Byron was thinking of bed.

Wordsworth was lost in the hills
Blake was talking to God
Oscar was driving them wild
But I just felt very odd.

What was I doing here
Transcending precious time?
Perhaps there is no reason
Perhaps there’s only rhyme.

D.Hinson

2 Responses to “A Poet’s Fantasy”

  1. Uncle Tree said

    Excellent rhymes all up and down your site here.
    Good to see it! There are only a few of us left.

    Nice to meet you, Barb. I’ll keep a knotted eye
    out for you in the near future. Odd? Maybe.

    • barbarianella said

      Thanks, Uncle Tree. Glad you enjoyed them. Rhyming poems not everyones cup of tea but it’s what comes naturally to me. Will prob post a few without rhymes soon. Will check out your stuff too when I got some spare time.
      ‘Knotted eye’ ~ nice one :)

      Cheers,
      Barbarianella

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