|Can I pass life to vouch more time to write?|
A phrase, a word, a blurb, it’s clear I’m thrown
In finding just the verse for your delight
For what you type in my website as shown.
I’ll vouch to this, you can give me more time
Perhaps one day my verse will smell of rose
I’m working hard on other types of rhyme
This early version here my scripts expose.
But poets die with vouchers left in space
Oh life is long for me, so I won’t quit
You might ask human souls should I replace
Requests like this do trip me, I admit.
These scrambled lines don’t vouch my ignorance,
I sort them quickly, making poets wince!