This poem, which answers the 'orange' question, was written for my wonderful Dad who passed away 11 years ago. He's the guy who read me The Dr. Seuss Sleep Book so many times we both memorized it. He was also a terrific poet himself, and responsible for any poetic and musical talent I may have.
So Dad, this is for you. I love you and miss you!
ODE TO A CREATION TURN
Copyright 2011 by Roger B. Stone
An agonizing turn of phrase;
A wisp of tortured rhyme;
This tangled web of syntax
Constitutes the poet's crime.
For what sin is he indicted
If not verbal mutilation?
He'll commit syllabic larc'ny
To keep rhythmic his creation.
He's the master of forced couplets
He'll pair O.J. with Nicole;
No taboos and nothing's sacred
In his sick linguistic soul.
He will stretch the lengths and breadths of taste
In weaving his melange.
In his conceit he'll even have
A Frenchman shout, "Orange!"
Is it a talent or a curse
To feel compelled to erudition?
Is mangling the Queen's tongue
Cause for sainthood or perdition?
But like Tantalus he reaches
Towards excruciating pleasure,
Because one time in a thousand
He'll unearth poetic treasure!
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY 1996!!!
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