This is the first poem on the first poem post, posted as a poem, having shown that the host of the post is indeed a poet but does he know it?
No one knows what the host knows, nor the host, as uncertainty grows while he makes a go of it, a bit at a time, trying to rhyme but it’s hard for a mime.
The mind of a mime used to be mine, for I am the host but I’m not yet a ghost so I intend to pen more poems for more homes, leaving the mime years behind my ears, as I push the invisible wall all the way to today.
This is now what counts, as the days wither away and count down to the day when away I’ll fly into the sky, oh my! So for now I pen the poems for those homes, and I welcome a visit while business is slow, so just comment below.
Tea and poetry, a perfect rhyme / Photo by Thought Catalog on Pexels.com