Image for the poem Nocturne She Spun

Nocturne She Spun

My muse has thought it high time to return
from the urn, a ghastly nocturne she spun  
giving me the cold shoulder and a chill       
picking a fine time to leave me, no words to spill
around a group of poets and forget-me-nots  
of pot eaters wearing wife beaters of polka dots  
a few came in friendship and homeruns  
oh dear! one had a potbelly gun
stuck to his waistcoat with chewing gum  
from the urn, a ghastly nocturne she spun  
assembled for fun in the shadow of the sun  
Written by adagio
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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