Frivolity, or Unpolished Verse (or what you will)

If wishes were horses we’d have meat on the table: An Ode
To my Muse, Absurditia

If I were queen of the earth and all were mine,
I would make thee my steward, and the care of it thine.
I would bestow upon thee bounteous gifts—
First: legs only otherwise got by lifts.
And then, to further the growth of thy weal,
I would give thee buns of steel.
With a manly chest and a beauteous face
You would fill my extenuous court with wondrous grace.
I would rule all the world from my exalted state
And have thee ever near to quench the hunger of eye’s pate.
But ‘tis a cruel world indeed, we are ord’nary people
And as that be the case
Yours is the face
That ne’er will I meet ‘neath the steeple.


In Defense of Wishes as Horses

Brevity being the soul of wit,
Life on a swinging hire wire:
Bring me a rod of purest gold
to call on the muse of fire.

Be not so hasty to judge, good sir,
In metre and rhyme apoplectic.
A laugh in the face of the world absurd
Affords to make life less hectic.