April — A Poem A Day

The Problem With Writing Poetry

The Problem with writing poetry,
(the sort that has a rhyme)
Is that my mouth just spouts the stuff
And I talk in four/four time.

I sit down to write a note
About some telephone call,
And leave the message written in rhyme
Upon the kitchen wall.

Every word I write or speak
Has to have a mate.
I’ll end up without any friends
If I continue at this rate!


Poetic Asides, Day 3
Prompt: The  Problem With ____

How the Platypus Came to Be

“It is done”, God said,
“It’s time to take a rest.”
The angels marveled at the sun and stars,
Jesus liked the Earth the best.

God’s workshop was a jumble,
And Gabriel started to clean.
He found a pile of extra parts,
And caused some kind of scene.

“You know I can’t stand waste, Lord.
“You’ve got to use these bits,”
“Can’t be done,” God told him.
“Nothing left there fits.”

“You’re the Lord!” Said Gabriel,
“Ain’t nothing you can’t do.”
So God jammed the bits together,
And made the platypus and you.


poem originally posted on David McMahon’s
Author Blog,
May 5th, 2008
Poet: Charlene L. Amsden