The Canine Poet

The Canine Poet

I tried to draft a careful poem 
Of length, with strength, a testing tome. 
The final draft though, monochrome 
It should have stayed in house, at home. 

So, I turned to trite, a ditty 
Should have learned, as far from pretty. 
Try to force iambic meter 
Like compulsive over-eater. 

Talent turns to trad. a sonnet, 
Boy, that's just as bad, it's chronic. 
This queer compulsion to get rhyme 
To scan, oh man, it's such a crime. 

I'll try some prose, see how that goes,
 A budding Rowling, no one knows. 
That's it, my friend, I'll write a book 
With twisted end to get you hooked. 

Pen a song, with awesome lyrics 
Dance floor flooded atmospherics. 
Writing now, on upward spiral, 
Fame and fortune, even viral. 

Name in lights, and big star billing. 
Upbeat dog treats, snoozing, chilling. 
Win awards, a prize, a trophy, 
Accolades and "Well done Dauphy."

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21 Comments on “The Canine Poet”

  2. Oh Dauphy… I really understand the dreams, the switching and changing, the aspirations, the goals. I’m only at the beginning of the same long road. I hope to catch up with you some day.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

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