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There once was a little mouse
Asleep in his own little house
Cosy in his own little bed
On his pillow is his little head

Dreaming of getting past the cat
Creeping past with pitter pat
Trying not to give away a sneeze
Climb up and steal the cheese

Because that cheese is so yummy
So nice in his little tummy
Has to be quick and brisk
When he awakes, he will take the risk
Copyright © Chris Smith 2009
As I lay dozing in my bed,
I write poetry in my head.
Playing the page with well-worked words,
A mix of adjectives and verbs,
My Voice it resonates with musical sounds
And my imagination knows no bounds.

I like that!
I declare,
So soon I’m rushing down the stairs
To grab my pad.
Scribbling it all down
Did I forget to mention noun?

Forgetting words is just the pits:
That sends me into raging fits.
I’m on my laptop soon enough
To add more verses, off the cuff.

Microsoft Word becomes my home
As now I’m really in the zone.
I just can’t stop myself from doing this I know:
All I can do is let it go.

Paul Butters
An how to poem.
I wish NYC had more stars so I could compare them to how dim they are to your eyes.
Plus stargazing is cool.
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