Quoth Theraven Poet Alliteration

Ms Maybe

Can't ask a man, a woman, or anyone...
to change who they are overnight.
But for you, if you did,  
I'd try. 

Leaves turn to green, as if by some magic spell
do they know why...
Crickets trumpeting the cicadas return
Ol man sun hangs higher in the sky.

Stood holding my cap a long time
waiting the judges to make up their mind.
though just knew nothing good would come of it
still I pressed.., as you guessed, needing to know 
what fate and jury had in store, 
waited patiently all three...
Ms. Yes, Ms. No, Ms. Maybe.

Is it odd that I find that strange(?)

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Panagiota Romios November 2, 2024 at 10:26 PM Hi Richard, I have been in the jury pool, but never on a jury. Anyway, I’m too old now to be on a jury. I like that idea a lot, a lot)) If I were on a jury, we would never agree- so it’s a blessing it never happened. What a great idea you had writing a poem about this. Pangie

Edward Wraith June 14, 2024 at 7:28 AM What a contemplative poem. We try so hard to to change or morph ourselves to fit it, to be accepted by a judgmental society, as we eagerly await in anticipation for their acceptance, acquittal or conviction. I too find that strange…..

Hilda Greenhough June 13, 2024 at 10:20 AM Don't get me into this conversation. I refuse to ever go on another jury. A good poem, though.