The poet laureate of Peonies Drive
Wrote so few poems
Neighbors thought she wasn’t alive.
She went about from day to day
Flopping on sofas and beds in dismay
Saying, “I have nothing, plumb nothing,
Just nothing to say,
And it has gone on this way for interminable days.
Someone please take this poor poet’s crown away.”
So someone did and left her there
With nothing on top of her dark brown hair,
Alone and in throws of deep despair,
The once poet laureate of Peonies Drive,
Who had all but forgotten how to jive.
