No Accounting For Taste

Arlene, who is
A summertime friend
Reads my bad poems
From beginning to end

Every Sunday she says
Need it or not
She opens my blog
To see what I’ve got

Mom-in-law has
This bad habit, too
Her Sunday isn’t over
Completed, or through

Until she has read
The poem I have written
Of the insanity bug
She must have been bitten

And of my Twitter buddies
Ian comes to mind
He reads my poems weekly
Lest he fall behind

Twitter buddy
And author to boot
Pam say she finds
My poetry a hoot

For a bad poetry fix
These kind people know
That my silly blog
Is the place to go

Are there more of you?
I ponder, I wonder
Who tune in weekly
For my new poetic blunder?

If so, please tell me
Please fill me in
And some extra stanzas
Next week I might spin

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On the Subject of Spiders

Someone read my poetry bad
And told me he’d be very glad
For a poem about spiders

I’m not sure the reason why
But told him I would go and try
Here’s my poem about spiders

I like how they swing from strings
They do okay, despite no wings

Their webs are pretty, that’s for sure
With geometric patterns I do adore

Eight legs they have, which seems a lot
Since only two is what I’ve got

Arachnids they are called, I think
I’ve not idea what they like to drink

On second thought I think it’s blood
Insects caught must say “Oh, crud”

That’s enough on this here species
Writing more would give me creepies
And that’s my poem about spiders

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