Sound the trumpets

ring the bells

Lord save us

from villanelles

 

eye of toad

and wing of bat

don’t write about

your bloody cat

 

your latest grandchild

or your mum

just makes my lids droop

brain go numb.

 

Stir the pot,

concoct a stanza

belt it forth

like Mario Lanza

 

but remember:

no sestinas;

keep it simple

don’t demean us

 

with that high

falutin’ stuff.

Free verse rules

and that’s enough.

 

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