my computer's finds are nothing close to a pun;
words are far more tread than tires are tread;
if fad be funny, why then, its humors are done;
if written in files, floppy disks pile up to my head.
I have seen writings brilliant, fun and bright,
but no such prose seen when at mine I peek;
and in other's writings is there more delight
than in the files that my computer keeps.
I have to write daily, yet well I know
that TV hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw Dave Barry go
to my files, never to look around.
And yet, by Heaven, I think my writings as rare
as any Erma Bombeck can compare.
This was my second pastiche; if I can dig up my very first one, which was an assignment for English Lit 101 many eons ago, I'll post it. (I can tell you're so excited to hear the news!) ~ Thanks for reading me!
© Cherié Davidson All rights reserved