The agreeable eye

an eudæmonistarchives

Poetastery (3)

Convert me into meter, sir,
  dispose of me in rhyme –
pray enjamb me in a corner
  where I must bide your time.

With assonance I’ll not demur,
  in iambs I shall dwell,
embrace alliteration’s lure –
  I’m sure it suits me well;

each topsy-turvy metaphor
  and simile obscene –
I will not ponder what they’re for
  or ask you what you mean.

For meaning’s mark you may forswear
  though I should keep your time:
Dispose of me in meter, sir,
  disperse me into rhyme.


ego hoc feci mm–MMXXIV · cc 2000–2024 M.F.C.