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Days of Rhyme and Snoozes
I sit here relishing
a custard-filled
and chocolate-topped
choux bun.
If I had a trumpet
I’d surely blow it.
It seems that I’m
“An Emerging Poet”
and, icing on the cake,
I’ve “got potential”.
Imagine my elation
at such an unexpected
elevation. My many years
of scribbling, so long
unheralded, unheard,
pleasing but me and me alone,
and now at last the gods atone
for past disdain
and disappointment.
Yet even as I contemplate
my new persona, I surely know
a day of reckoning awaits.
In old age now, my words
grow trite and rusty.
I fear that, sitting here,
awaiting inspiration
for yet another new creation,
my rhyming days are almost done
and, truth be told, I’d rather have
another deliciously inspiring bun,
to be followed by, maybe, just perhaps,
another of my afternoon naps.
Copyright ©
Peter Rees
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