Ballard Street by Jerry Van Amerongen for August 01, 2017

For Terry, life was about rhyme or reason but rarely both.

Sometimes those rhymes just don’t come. But our own Ms Sunshine never has that problem.

No intent to slight the other talented lymarcists or other rhymers, but I cannot recall the names right now.

You’re a poet

Though you don’t know it

But your feet show it

They’re Longfellows!

Scream therapy.

Aw, Dennis thanks… I wish I could,

Do something now in rhyme…

It’s three AM… I really should

Wait till some other time.

 

But I must mention, just for now,

The poems of Number Six…

ChessPirate’s rhymes are great, and wow…

The Monkey’s verbal tricks!

Temperamental,

Elemental.

Not too sensual -

Never mind.

I’m no poet

And I know it

He may just be half mental.

It appears to me that Terrance Patterson has a smile on his face, but he is pulling his hair. Now, he is either participating in the agony and the ecstasy of literary endeavor. (The pain is sublime

When writing bad rhyme)

Or he is simply into that sort of thing?

Will Mistress Higglepooder be along presently? She promised him pain so pleasant.

Next he will move to musical theater. Poetic justice.

CHOOO!!!

We are witnessing Terrance’s hairance’s bearances.

Terrance, this is silly stuff. You eat your victuals fast enough. There can’t be much amiss, ’tis clear, To see the rate you drink your beer.

Terrance Patterson,

he thinks that he’s a poet.

Drama, his talent.

Sorry, best i got is bad Haiku.

MIST!

You okay?

Oh yeah, this strip stimulated the rhymers! Thanks to you all.