She does not often deal in verse
Says she finds it indulgent and obtuse
As must who write it write it
So when she wrote a poem for our girl
Three iambic tetrameter couplets
I marked it

She said
The Muse spoke to her
Even if her ears were clogged with wax
But I think she was worried
That I might too ineptly handle
A fresh cotton swab

Do you hear the Muse? I can help open your ears! Fill out the form below to begin!

Or you can send your support along directly!