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

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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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