It’s time again for some original poetry, something I strive to deliver every month, and which will always be free to my wonderful subscribers and ever curious visitors.
This month I’ve delved into the ancient tradition of nonsense literature, taking some of its less fantastical elements to construct my own poem. It’s not bedtime reading for children, mixing marital lifestrife with a thirtywonder calamity of frankenwords or portmanteaus. But I hope Lear and Lewis, or even Barrett and Byrne, might intether their disapproves.
Escape This Nonsense
Segways did husband rhyme, oily sideverse to miscalm buffets of wife’s storms, pointy accuses of where falsejourneys been. Longways, she examines her roily life of toil, rethoughts of nontaken lifestreams, dreamcarried to nought. Sideways does he feignlook, to childment picturings, their younglifes forged from Forget-Me-Lots of pleasing. Whichways is always unclarity. Noperson knowing, how and where the endtime coming. Only loudshouts of forbadding. Lengthways, she concludes the himcall to undoing is now. Or never forever, letstead sinklow in pleaded regret. Upways, she wipecleans last tearscars of duel-tossed briny. Cleaving their endsunk darkship, widebracing a newbright lifescape.