Lines written after listening on the wireless to the doleful dirge of a sad and inconsolable crooner.
I'd like to write a crooning song Of inconsolable regrets To music of the sweet tom-tom With dulcet motor-horn effects. But when I strive to weave the rhymes Harsh dissonances fill the room, And unmatched mouthings end the lines. I wish that I knew how to croon. I try, but inspiration stops, And dull frustration thins my locks. Oh, I want to write a crooning song, A blooming song Of love. About a heart by passion torn While evil stars rage in a storm Above. (Gosh! That's a rhyme! I'm getting on. I wonder where I got it from? If I could but go on like that I'd moon until my tonsils crack.) I want to serenade my sweet In drear and doleful terms And tell her how my life is bleak, How all my being burns With unrequited love. I roam Tghe sad earth, all undone; But when I raise my metric moan The rhymes will never come. With wilful warring words I strive Until my tortured brain cells writhe. Oh, I want to write a moving song A soothing song, Tho' sad. If only I could get it right I even might grow lover-like And glad. (A rhyme again! Yes, that's another! I could be a luckless lover; But, alas, my song must flag Because I've no more rhymes in stock.)
|Copyright © Perry Middlemiss 2011|