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Buddy, Can You Spare a Rhyme?
You know it's Tough Times when you don't have a clue
About what to write, and even bad ideas are few.
When a dressy field of sunflowers fails to jumpstart
The rhyming process and one begins to lose heart.
Gazing out the window with a despondent air.
Looking at the May sunshine, feeling naught but despair.
Oh! A poet's heart can be bleak, a fallow field to be sure,
Until a creative surge dispels all the rancor.
However, on this day, with the deadline long past,
I must toss in the towel, despite feeling aghast.
I'll blame seasonal allergies (although I have none)
And make this the last sentence - finis! It is done.
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