Ten Minute Poem (a.k.a. My Little Test)

I need to write poem;

It really has to rhyme.

If I don’t write a poem,

within ten minutes time

My life will be all over –

I will have failed the test

No matter that I have a four-leaved clover

Or that I made a most special bequest

 

To Apollo, god of poems

(Actually, rumours say that he is one of the worst).

All of my stratagems

Even my cry of “I was coerced!”

Have been reduced to whining syllables

That just want to go hide and rest.

So I have been reduced to writing small capsules

Of sound for this oppressive test.

 

Will I succeed?

That, only you can tell. So debate, and then accede

‘Tween yourselves

Whether ’tis done well, or whether it just delves

Into the levels that few have trodden

For fear that their lyrics become sodden

 

I have no such fear  –

(Because really, how bad can you get?)

– I’ve certainly had worse

Just read this over, dear

And if you like, tell me it is worth a purse.

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