I really thought I had a poem about to emerge but all I ended up with was a confused nonsense…
To Confuse A Muse
I tried, ‘The sun is scintillizing…’
But my muse stopped me with a cry
‘You can’t make up words or the poetry will die.
And why this adverbalizing?’
I harrumphed. ‘That’s not a word.’
And began to inject my protest with vigour
When my wretched muse stopped me with a snigger.
‘You know you are being ridiculously absurd,’
She exclaimed. ‘Let’s polish up your stanzas,
After all that’s what you favourite muse is for,
And if we don’t, your public will abhor
You continued verbal extravaganzas.’
Which frankly left me undone, confused
Though my muse, the wretch was highly amused.