When I run it’s just like poetry
I’m limping like a limerick
Looking for that last rhyme
I stumble like a stanza
That’s completely lost its time
I’m sauntering in a sonnet
That Shakespeare clean forgot
Tripping over my iambic pentameters
My leg muscles in a knot
And as I climb the hill
Supporters’ shouts reach my ears
It must be really poetic
‘Cause my eyes have filled with tears
Then the race gets really tough
And I start to swear and curse
My normal vocabulary
Is replaced by blank, blank verse
But when the race is over
And I’ve finished off my run
Like singing a round, I’ll be back again
It really was such fun!
Kathy Tytler
We love receiving your poetry and print a selection every week. Send your verse to poems@wokingham.today
