That Same Old Rhyme Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Metronomes of heavy eyes
Of fun and games underneath leaden skies,
The stewardesses and unicorns first perused out of the
Toy chests of puppets bruised;
And it was a park that grew the fruit trees too,
All in the straightest lines their passions knew: and it was
A funny thing to see,
The headlights of the horizon through the ochre of
Bellefontaine Cemetery;
And it was a funny sight: I suppose it always was:
God waking up with his turtledoves,
And all of the sparks on his feet and smiles, a palindrome
For crocodiles;
And the bicycle’s spinning wheels, Like Queen Anne’s
Wheels telling ferry tails of billy goats over bridges,
Who listened to their oldest brothers’ wishes;
And wanting more they took their time,
And rhymed their rhyme to goblins, who finished the very
Bones of that same old rhyme.