The Sun Never Sets on PoetrySoup
Sailing the seas on a lyrical sloop,
visiting pensmen in a metrical loop
with alternating laughs and sighs,
I smile and realize
the sun never sets on PoetrySoup.
In every time zone, in every land,
shining on each seashore's sand,
a seashell or a nautilus
sings to amuse or slaughter us,
from a poet, awake, pen in hand.
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