Out of one sound how many thoughts may ooze?
There are such hoards of words from which to choose
That rhyming sounds are virtually a Muse:
At every turn they offer up fresh news
And like bright sprites inspire and enthuse.
Let other writers turn to drugs and booze;
I find in rhyme the hunches and the clues
I need to lead me on to novel views,
Discovering more matter by the slues,
As out rhyme’s spigot inspiration spews.
My only worry’s how not to abuse
Your ears with dinning repetition whose
Unmeant consequence might make you snooze,
In which case you may win, but I shall lose.