With apologies to Alfred, Lord

Published January 3, 2016 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

In honor of this, blog six hundred, I offer a take on a classic.  I mean no disrespect to the Light Brigade.

I

Half a page, half a page, half a page onward

All in the valley of mirth towards the six hundred.

“Forward, the spritely ones

Time weasels all for funs.

Into the valley of mirth

Towards the six hundred.

II

Forward, the words you made

Was there ever a brain dismayed

As all who had wondered.

  What neurologist blundered

  None wants to reply

   None to reason why,

No frenches to fry

   Into the valley of Mirth

  Toward s the six hundred

III

Cat to the right of me

Netflix to the left of me

Distractions in front of me

Dancing and flirting

So tempting and swell

Entertainment it knows me well

Into the pile of words

Deadlines they sure are hell

Towards the six hundred.

IV

Flashed all their humor there

Words turned up in the air

Trying to find meaning there

Wasting time while

   I weigh and wonder

Thinking in the thought smoke

Would I have this problem without a stroke?

Blogs, Stories, Plays

Dragged from my brain with a choke

  House cleaning goes asunder

The time I won’t get back as I go towards the six hundred.

V

Pictures to the right of me

News to the left of me. ,

Inspiration all around me

Things I want to write all brilliant and bright

Things I know so well

From the keys and check to spell.

Writer’s block can go to hell!

It comes from a place of Joyful swell

All  the things I can  tell

The stories that are still left

After the six hundred.

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