My sister wants my poems to rhyme, <br />To write blank verse is just a crime, <br />“It isn’t poetry if it doesn’t rhyme, ” <br />She says, and really must keep time, <br />By scanning line by line. <br /> <br />Yet it would be as much a crime, <br />To make it rhyme, yes, every time, <br />And truth to say I see no point in trying. <br /> <br />As apple blossom scents the Springtime day, <br />With sultry summer on the way, <br />I have a more melodious tune to play. <br /> <br />The lambs have gambolled, swallows here, <br />Those bees are buzzing, never fear, <br />That sun is shining, sky is clear. <br /> <br />Let’s walk the forest, breathe the air, <br />Then snuggle down in that comfy chair.<br /><br />Paul Butters<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poem-51/
