I prayed myself a_trophy
as golden as could be,
so Vivian, Sue, Sophie,
on AP poetry
could [g]ape at gilt reflection,
praise find for rhyme ahead,
ignoring recollection
mind's guilt ridden instead.
Winged trophy I would merit,
make Pegasus so proud,
hear nightingale and ferret
recite my rants aloud.
Alas, verse earns no pennies,
points can't be traded in
for sense, cents, spinning Jennies,
lest stanzas' stall begin...
I'll seek through silver second
sweet consolation prize,
feat which at least is reckoned
worth more than Styx hiss sighs.
Perhaps Judge tender-hearted
shall honour my request
if not, I'd best get started
on bronze song jest in_quest.
Ingesting judgements hasty
my tasty morsels may
sell more than punning pastry,
internal interplay
perhaps bright bronze write earns me,
if not I'll add, ahem !
my Muse, pray never spurn me,
bestowing just H.M. !





Lovely poem on the thoughts of winning trophies here. I'm not sure how the Author's notes apply, but it is a darling little poem...alby














46 old applause
