Page the Ninth

Page the ninth

I do believe

Progress is made

And all receive

Forgetting your measure

Forgetting your verse

And all in your pleasure

You will rehearse

A dime a dozen

The people say

A silty rag

A thought for cousins

A glossy mag

Submit, submit

Do not reverse

Commit, commit

Get published your verse

Divine, divine

And drink the wine

Do not give in

Healing, always, comes from within

A line of prose

A line of speed

Ever into evening

We do proceed

When in your nose

You do produce

A line of prose

You must deduce

Revise, revise

Be ever unwise

Take chances for fun

Thy will, be done

One thought on “Page the Ninth

  1. Only effusive praise enterable here… Bravissimo! The exterior swirl-of-source is the locus which we tap when we are accurate goliards. This is IT: its place in us. Thanks for the concentrated attention… Silty is as effluvial does.

    Liked by 1 person

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