Last night around midnight weary while I conversed, tired and dreary,
Over many a quaint and curious subject of education lore --
While I spake, my phone on top, I slightly turned and then did drop,
My cell phone slipping, slipping sliding, dropping on my chamber floor.
"My cell phone dropped," I thinkered, "fallen to my chamber floor" --
Only this and nothing more."
Now as far as I remember, it was two months past December,
When a glass of water, I had left upon the floor.
Eagerly I looked not far-o; -- for my cell phone on the floor-o
and was filled with much sorrow – for what I saw upon the floor --
For the phone had fallen in the water, and to replace it I am too poor --
It will work Nevermore
2 comments:
Rap....
Good job, hon.
Very original. I thoroughly enjoyed your interpretation.
I it was he chatted with
when tragedy occurred
His voice spake "oooff"
and then was gone
Last sound his mama heard.
O'er and again I rang him up
"Hey, there. I'm not around..."
YES YOU ARE! But are you dead?
From the cell came not a sound.
He'd said he was in bed
Had just laid down his head
Called to share his bloggin'
Before he closed his noggin
Simple then
He wasn't dead
His cell phone must have been
At least that's what I told myself
And then I prayed for him.
Morning came
Twas then I learned
The glass, the phone, the silence
How glad I was to hear his voice
And cease all fretting nonsense
(Exactly how many different poetry forms did I use here anyway?)LOL
DON'T EVER DO THAT AGAIN, LUKE!
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