The Poem Gnome

Unblinking genius!

 

The Poem Gnome

 

Little fellow made of wood,

he would be alive, if he could

Because of his un-alive status,

having a human to help is a must!

But there’s no one to help him transcribe,

yet he must have something inside,

cause he always communicates what he’s trying to get across

You’d think not thinking, he’d be so lost,

but rhyming stanzas somehow wind up on the page,

and, his words of wisdom are all the rage!

He’s doesn’t have a clue what he’s writing about

but because he’s not alive, but his ideas never run out

Maybe because he never moves, he has lots of time to think

Because he’s an eye sore, he lives under the kitchen sink

But, in spite of having no eyes, he never misses a trick

But, that’s not as hard as his wooden dick!