Rhyme-Itis

Folk often say, 'I'd love to write,

And though I try, both day and night,

I simply cannot make it rhyme,

And yet you do it all the time.'

"My dears", said I, "My plight is worse,

For every line I write is verse,

To send a letter of Complaint

Would try the patience of a Saint!"

I thought, "The time has come to see

My Doctor, at his surgery."

When all was told, said he, 'Your plight is

A chronic case of DREAD RHYME-ITIS!

Now take these pills, three times a day,

And hurry home now, don't delay,

Then read my book, (but in reverse),

And you will cease to speak in verse.'

"Oh Dear", I thought, "for years I've fought it,

And now the Doctor's gone and caught it."

But still, I did just what he said,

I took the Pills and Book to bed.

When I awoke, at break of day,

I thought, "I bet it's gone away."

But, sad to say, the Dreaded Curse

Had multiplied, from BAD to WORSE !

So I suppose that all the time

I'll have to speak and write in Rhyme;

But now, to make things even worse,

My DENTIST speaks to me in Verse !!!

by

Shirley Frances Winskill 1987