#9 Clyde Writes Poetry

#9 Clyde Writes Poetry

A Chapter by Dave Brown
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We had decided to settle down for a while   

After having travelled endless mile after mile

Altho’ in addition to some real rest now being a factor

My good buddy Clyde intended to become a film actor

Tho,’ thinking his efforts would be pearls thrown for swine

I still settled back with a good bottle of wine

Thus, it was after he had taken that first screen test

They suggested his acting inclination be best put to rest

This also put to rest his hopes for a horse actor club

Having him drown his sorrow at the Good Old Boy’s pub

So, hoping he wouldn’t end up gettin a horsey black eye

He decided to give writing poetics somekina big try

And to formally launch his effort as if he’d used an atlatl

He would attempt to present himself as the femme fatale

But wondered which form of deadly alure should he use?

Would lackadaisical sex be best with which to abuse

Or would the false charm of the Deady woman

Be best used on the unwary, easily lured, dough man

She would have to find that man, lonely, without love

Whose heart could be captured with her velvet glove

He being a sorry soul suffering from the Black dog

She the princess, he no more than a simple clog

Clyde felt that any poem’s first line should attract

And, ‘Once upon a time” just didn’t have ‘that’ impact

This realization sent him along a different poetic route

And we all thought what follows was kina cute;

 

Mary had a very little lamb

Whose fleece was white as snow

And, each time they sheared her

She polish’d off a Bordeaux

 

Eventually, drinking endlessly

She became, a very sorry lush

With her fleece so stiff that

She was used as a paintbrush

 

Written by Clyde…….))

 

A week later he showed me what he had written

Telling me the response from WC had left him smitten

Eighty others had taken time to view what he’d done

But nary a comment had been left by a single one

He’d taken this as meaning no one had appreciated his work

Which had left poor Clyde feeling like a real jerk

So much so he’d write nothing else for others to see

Which he informed while slipping behind a tree

 



© 2024 Dave Brown


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Added on May 2, 2024
Last Updated on May 4, 2024


Author

Dave Brown
Dave Brown

Nanaimo Vancouver Island, West coast, Canada



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