25 Mar 2019

It's Not Collins' It's Mine

One morning while sat at the table
I decided to see if I was able
To write a poem with perfect rhyme
I was on holiday, so I had the time
Before I set off on this task
What is a rhyme? I paused to ask
A rhyme is when words sound the same
If you didn't know this, then that's a shame
There had to be at least one rule
I may be stupid, but I'm no one's fool
I had to use words that were real
But finding rhymes soon became an ordeal
To stop me delving into the fictionary
I bought myself a rhyming dictionary
It cost me less than a fiver
And gave this aimless journey a driver
Before I headed off to the final destination
I found myself full of hesitation
It all felt too much for this mere man
I almost quit before I began
But I am stubborn so chose to endeavour
To baton the hatches and face the weather 
So onward I charged with this tale
Looked fear in the eyes and refused to fail
Word after word poured out of me
I'll get this done, just wait and see
And then I stumbled upon a list
Made up of words that should be missed
Welsh, an entire language deemed taboo
Wasp, useless in nature and in poetry too
Cusp and gouge were also there
But at this point, I didn't care
The one word I thought I'd find was orange
It wasn't there because it rhymes with lozenge
Then when I felt like the end was nigh
I went and found something else to buy

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