by Mary E. Lowd
March 31, 2021
If to arise you desire
Without earning my ire
Then answer thee
These riddles three…
Why are you a fool?
How are you such a fool?
When will this foolishness end?
Your answers are wrong
Now sing me a song
As you play the part of a chair
I have been more than fair
* * *
From the book: Some Words Burn Brightly: An Illuminated Collection of Poetry
Next poem: Golden Eyes
Previous poem: Two Cats