Blow Your Trumpet

Who doesn't know I can bake
A befitting king John's Cake
And other senior Job's take:
People of High profile make?
Far into the night awake,
Knowledge displayed for its sake,
None of my finished products fake
Not what makes hirers rake
Nor cause to drown in a lake
Nor me liken to a snake...

Sure, I'm blowing my trumpet,
Claiming sweet - smelling armpit:
I had been Luck's Ignored Pet
For decades with eyelids wet...
Copyright © | Year Posted 2022

Poem

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