Poet’s Day

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Mr. Shakespeare, all your plays and sonnets really are fantastic.

Mr. cummings, I’ll admit your poetry is rather spastic.

But no one can deny you both are masters, in your way,

So, by my troth, I wish you both

A Happy Poet’s Day.

 

Mr. Whitman, you’re the most barbaric yawper of them all.

Miss Millay, I’d sing your praises clear from here to Montreal.

Ms. Walker, you’re astounding, that’s the least that I can say,

And merrily I wish you three

A Happy Poet’s Day.

 

Miss Dickenson, your poems help me dwell in possibility.

Mr. Eliot, I stand in awe of your astute profundity.

Mrs. Browning, your fine sonnets simply take my breath away,

You certainly have earned from me

A Happy Poet’s Day.

 

Mr. Sandburg, all your poems are as stunning as your house.

Mr. Burns, I have to say, I loved the one about the mouse.

Mr. Nash, your whimsy always keeps the blues away.

You all are tops—kudos and props

This Happy Poet’s Day!

 

To the poets that I didn’t list, or that aren’t published yet,

Your work is all magnificent, so don’t you dare forget

Your poetry’s your poetry, so do it in your way,

So have a ball. I wish you all

A Happy Poet’s Day. 

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