Poetic License

At first I was only permitted
to go driving on the
neat streets of Rhyme.

When I got my poetic license,
I headed out into
the wider world of verse.

I made a brief stop in Haiku,
had a few laughs in Limerick,
sang the praises of Ode.

Then I ventured into Fiction—
it was a bit of a stretch to get there—
and I let myself get carried away:

I crossed over the line
into Non-Fiction, and that
was the end of my poetic license.


Daughter number three will be getting her learner’s permit soon, and then we begin 65 hours of behind-the-wheel experience before she can test for her actual driver’s license. It seems like an appropriate time to post this poem. Peace to your !

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