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Junacy or No swoon and moon and croon in June
On Junacy and Rhyme Withdrawal

I could compare this to a summers chore,
a sun that hammers down like Gods left fist,
so many rhymes forbidden, what a bore,
oh, how I long for Lunas silver mist.
Soon after solstice, when the sun will list
towards the shorter days we`ll meet again
and virgin paper is the place to tryst,
-come thunder, lightning, rain or heat. - Till then
I`ll use my keyboard, not my peacock pen
to write junatic poetry devoid
of swoon & moon words, cackle like a hen,
a candidate for therapy from Freud.

I`ll bark like any purple-assed baboon,
and rattle at my bars, a rhyme-sick loon.
Never sigh for a better world it`s already composed, played and told

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