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The poems I proffer here, all spin around, one way or another on the axis of generic love. They run a spectrum from frivolous to serious, inane to germane, and short to long. Each one is a specific response to some spontaneous feeling brought on by such a demon as "Puck" of perhaps Erato. After each "Rhyme", a reason ensues to explain, apologize, "rap" about or otherwise attend the poem at hand. Each itch has its very own scratch! Isn't that what we all do while waiting for "Godot" and otherwise enjoying the poison ivy of life?! We all remember the days of our youth, when we, as scholars,…mehr

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The poems I proffer here, all spin around, one way or another on the axis of generic love. They run a spectrum from frivolous to serious, inane to germane, and short to long. Each one is a specific response to some spontaneous feeling brought on by such a demon as "Puck" of perhaps Erato. After each "Rhyme", a reason ensues to explain, apologize, "rap" about or otherwise attend the poem at hand. Each itch has its very own scratch! Isn't that what we all do while waiting for "Godot" and otherwise enjoying the poison ivy of life?! We all remember the days of our youth, when we, as scholars, students, (or at least pupils) were tortured in the name of homework to write that infernal essay by which we attempted to explain (in five hundred words) what the poet, John Milton, perhaps was really saying as he lamented his blindness. As for my "ocular rectitis," perhaps God will be kind and not exact day-labor when my "Rhyme and Reason" is considered in the dim twilight of my years as a late day, latter day, would-be poet. With Love; I Say, Enjoy!Sincerely, Jake Dillon
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