Once was a poet named Hunter
Who when couldn't rhyme, would punt'er
And come back next day
As if to say,
Sorry but I just coundn't do'er.
So as calendar pages turned,
His writing he'd spurn
Until finally, it seemed so proper
Just put pencil to paper
And, nothing could stop'er.
So Hunter, George by name
Is the one and the same
Who'll tease ye
With poems quite easy.
That after a beer (or more) will seize ye.
Putting words into play
The thought for the day -
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year
s
Sidi J. Mahtrow
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/was-once-a-poet-named-george-hunter/
