All dressed up and ready to go,
just as it was starting to snow,
I heard my mobile loudly ring
with a tune that Adele does sing: it was my beau.
He said that he’d be very late,
he’d got himself into a state.
He had drunk too many beers
and now he cannot drive, he fears, ’til after eight.
I told him I thought that he was bad,
and that now I was very mad.
and he should never come back here,
I’d had enough of him and beer. He was so sad.
That was the end of our romance,
I had given him his last chance.
He had blotted his copy book
I’d not give him a second look, or one more glance.
A Florette Poem:-
Rhyme scheme a,a,b,ba. Meter 8,8,8,12 Fouth line requirement of internal rhyme b on syllable 8, then rhyme a on syllable 12