With a sullied slink,
and bawdy blink,
I give a wink,
Like a filthy fink.
Produce a link,
A chainy chink,
Be in sync,
Approach the brink.
Kick up a stink,
Within our rink,
Faces are pink,
We're done... I think.
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I Feel the Need, the Need to Read
Your Host
- Dan the VespaMan
- Somewhat reclusive, yet strangely drawn to the collective. To constantly study the ebb and flow of life and appreciate the beautiful and the ugly equally.
Brevity, rhyme, plenty of assonance - could this be ... a poem!!!? And why pray tell is it so dubious, so uncertain?
ReplyDeleteIn deep consideration this makes me sink
ReplyDeleteSwing my neck to the point of a crink
And wonder what to think
Something special on your mind?
Ms Burger... No, merely a coincidental twist of fate that the perfectly appropriate words at the end of each line ended in "ink". However, I am rather fond of assonance, oddly fixated on the topic in fact. Assonant endeavours should be deeply probed and on the rare occasion I can, I will get firmly behind them and see them to an end. And as I tend to write based on mood, I must have been in a dubious and uncertain one at the time.
ReplyDeleteGropius... Always special things on my mind. Sometimes they need to be released, and sometimes a few rhyming lines is the perfect pressure valve.
Well, the kid can rhyme!
ReplyDeleteGiven the time, I can indeed rhyme.
ReplyDelete