This, then, is the first line
Of this poem, my first submission
For your brief, kind, consideration.
You can see from this line what I’ve read:
Your requirements for spacing and such.
You exceed expectations, asking so much.
I’ve heard from others
—Libertines and scoundrels and cads—
That they sent you scads
Written, colored pencil and crayon, on
Construction paper and lace hearts,
With easy rhymes such as “Daddy’s farts.”
All accepted!
Not a rejection in the pile!
So please accept this pome,
Though it may not scan (whatever that is),
Or fall pleasingly from the lips,
Because I’ve adoring children
Who think the world of their dad.
Do you want them sad?