English Languish

for June Casagrande

My Dad was one of those you cite

Correcting syntax as of right

A 'great big meany' to the core

He put construction to the fore

The spirit of the piece was lost

And in the basket ended tossed

The budding author withered then

And never showed him work again

<>

My heart was shattered by the flaws

A split infinitive could cause

A misplaced preposition, too,

Could wreck a scene of derring-do

I quaked at the subjunctive mood

And clauses giving too much food

For thought midst plots that wouldn't hatch

And parts of speech that did not match

<>

The hanging phrase is widely banned

And sentences that start with And

And sentences that start with But

Will cause an academic Tut!

The strict corrections they propose

Have blighted my immortal prose

O woe is me! I am undone!

There is no licence to have fun!

<>

The muse is gone, I wonder why

My verse can't fit the needle's eye?

And art is left to hang its lyre

On weeping willows and expire

But now I think I've said enough

And must not brook this kind of stuff

My future work they'll not be faulting

I think that pedants are revolting!

©2008 Rosy Cole