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Deus volt; Deus mittit me.

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

Couplets and Rictameters and Nonsense Oh My!--National Poetry Month



I'm doing a couplet or two and a rictameter to catch up with the one I swapped for free verse the other day. If you want to know what a couplet is, go here. If you want to know what a rictameter is, go here. Otherwise, and firstly, enjoy.

FORKS
There's always a fork with a crooked tine
You show me yours and I'll show you mine

They refuse to lie in a handy stack
All carefully balanced, front to back

You can try to straighten them one and all
But into a haystack they generally fall

I finally just got o'er my OCD traits
And set them all nicely beside the plates.

(I think I'm that crooked fork.) Okay, here's my chicken rictameter:


Chickens
Pretty tasty
Dumb as a bag of hair
They wake you up every morning
But then they give you their young for breakfast
They only fly when they want to
They can die in the rain
Brother loved them
Chickens
 (Can you tell I had to take care of a whole flock of these ditsy things?)
© 2017 by H. Linn Murphy

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