20100911

Neva Wallace

ODE TO TEN

TEN, TEN, TEN and then, marching up and down again
the TEN words, TEN lines, rolling neatly off our pen.
We carefully follow the rules devised for this poetic regimen
to win the coveted prize as literary women and men.
Great dancers knock themselves out, all in need of oxygen
to see those little signs go up - TEN TEN TEN.
But now the poets put together verbiage in their den,
concocting lines and counting words for your competition, and then
hope to please the judges, stand by patiently till when
we find out who's gone ballistic just before October TEN.

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