Must every plaint cause us to faint?
Each day brings junk to jeopardize,
To jerk us into compromise.
Though face-plant calls,
Forget the falls.
I’d rather skip and seek the skies.
No lasting jabber do I mean,
Nor knowingly to scoff at spleen.
It’s just that joy
Does me employ
To give a jump and then come clean.
Sure, we could moan at woes unjust;
And to address these, yes we must.
But jolly still
Beneath the chill,
I’d rather dance than bite the dust.
c2017 by Linda Ann Nickerson
Adapted by this user from vintage artwork.
This poem was posted in response to these prompts:
April A to Z Blog Challenge
National Poetry Writing Month / NaPoWriMo
One-Liner Wednesday: See subtitle.
Meme Express: “face-plant”
Stream of Consciousness Saturday: “give” or “given” or “giving”
Three-Word Wednesday: “jabber,” “knowingly,” and “lasting”