Paul S. Gifford
I’m going write a poem of contractions,
but ain’t sure that’s such a winning idea
you’ll going to hav’ to stick with me –
as the words they’re gonna look queer.
I’ve regrets about this rambling already,
and you’ve probably stopped readin’ by now.
But we’ll get to the bloomin’ finish together:
yes, we’re going to get thru it somehow.
I’m thinkin’ this will be the big finish
yes, I reckon it’s the grand final verse…
because surely if’ll don’t end it here
I keenly suspect it’s going to get worse.
Oh by golly I simply just knew it,
I sometimes don’t know when to quit.
I am thinking, you’re thinkin’ what I am:
This gibberish is a load of bull….
(sorry couldn’t think of a final rhyme.)
©Copyright March 22, 2011 by Paul S. Gifford