Piffle

Piffle, drivel, bollocks and shite
Four eloquences with which to write.
When I touch my artist’s pen to scroll
I nearly almost use them all.

Each stanza, line, and paragraph
Displays my elegance (in draft).
My mind, just like a rapier poised,
More oft to drift, as radio noise.

But with my lowly sang-froid self
My folio sits unread a’shelf.
I ponder on where reader went
But find my august wonder spent.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s