SUNDAY SCRIBBLINGS
asks us to consider our Muse
THE GREAT DECEIVER!
My Muse does not amuse me!
She chooses to abuse me!
She puts ideas inside my head
When I am lying in my bed,
Forcing me to stir my bones,
Rising with deep and midnight groans,
To hie me to my darkened desk!
In my night attire! Grotesque!
I seat myself, prepared to write,
Though it's the middle of the night!
But she, the miscreant, just hurts me,
For then the thought she gave deserts me.
The seed of greatness she inspired
Fades, and dwindles and grows tired!
Soon it fades away completely!
She doesn't even act discretely!
I hear her laugh as she takes her leave!
For she intended to deceive.
The great thought haunts me, almost there,
And yet quite vanished in thin air.
Nothing more to be done or said.
I go to the toilet and back to bed!
*
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LEWD LIMERICK!
A fellow who liked doing tricks
Would take off his clothes just for kicks.
People said he was rude
When he danced in the nude
And he didn't impress any chicks!
*
