Poem # 233 Rhyme Thyme

I like to be selective
About the words I yosen
Every single one
Is carefully chosen

I make up words,
Like drhyme and shyme
Because I rather like
My poems to rhyme

If it makes no sense
It doesn't matter
As long as it rhymes
I don't give a dratter

I place pen on paper
And then I sit and wait
And something very soon
Will come out to blait

But I never, never try
To rhyme with bluck or muck
'Cause words that
rhyme with bluck are yuck

I feel just the same about
Grick and scrunt
Those rhyming words
Are really flunt