in search of an artistic identity

 

It has come to me as something of a shock

That I am not Hillaire Belloc

Nor by any stretch of the benison

Would you be likely to mistake me on a dark night for Alfred Lord Tennyson,

Of their particular talent I am bereft

So what's left?

How can I fulfill my art

When I'm much too optimistic to be Sartre

Nor nuts enough to be Van Gogh

And lack the guts of old Picasso!

What's a would be poet to do?

Too a lee, toor a lay

Toor a lay, toor a loo.

Great men of art are seldom found

Wherever there is work around

Our work is art we always say

Beseeching others to offer pay

For each iamb pentametric

I'll accept card, cash or checque.