Metres by the Foot


Metres by the Foot

Ev’ry morning, half past nine,
And Pixie Prentiss writes a sonnet –
Seven minutes, and it’s done,
With notebook, coffee and a bun.
Thirty seconds for a line
Is all she’ll ever spend on it –
Surely nothing good can come
From scribbled scans of tum-de-tum ?
Yet I, who labours hard and long
To craft my wrought and weighty song
Must always envy Pixie’s fleeting fun.
She takes her pen and daily mines
Her fourteen brisk and punctual lines,
While my new verse has scarcely yet begun.

2 thoughts on “Metres by the Foot

  1. Thanks. Strangely, this poem really did slip off the pen (or rather march off the keyboard), which is a rare treat for me. Though I have tweaked it since – there’s nothing like fresh ears to hear a bum note.


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