My muse
The little feller
Came to me today
Perched on my shoulder
And had nothing to say-
A short little sprout
And very pale too,
he's not very heavy
(At best)
Even with a load
Since riddles and rhymes
Don't weigh very much
And Are very nearly
Weightless,
Unlike their cousins
The five vowels
or worse yet
Them awkward and nasty
Conson-ants.
I shooed him away
Until he has something to say
Or brings me a brand new
Sonnet.
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