or “How I Turned Out Like This”
A Silly Jilly Poem for Scribbling indVerse.
She was razed
up to be a
momconformist
so when she try-folded
the trowels
and dug dirt with bath
towels a Shirley-you-jest
beat her hibbity chest
proclaiming in voco-profundo
“Art thou no doctor of mime!”
Her tale is a glad one, but true
she stammered her pen and off flew
a self-percolating
and unliberating
poet of weirdness and wine
the children of kerfuffle and thyme
gathered their carrots and rhyme
tucked under their tosies
and sneezled their nozies
tilling the soil quite sub-lime.
they supplanted citrus and bells
all glorious hast’ning with spells
the magic was tragic
it flew from their grabick
and landed with happy unlines
© Jilly’s & Silly-Jilly All Rights Reserved
Our Bartender has asked me to take the mic and record this, so here ’tis!
Jilly's 