At fifteen minutes after nine at night,
A sudden thought came swiftly to my mind,
That March, in all its glory, did take flight
And in its place had April left behind.
It being so, a month of poems lies
Ahead of me and I must make a start.
I’m bound to mess up many of these tries
And see my rhyme and meter fall apart.
But, being NaPoWriMo, I will sit
And wrack my tired brain for pithy lines,
For words that lift, inspire and …well, fit
Within the ode’s broad planes and steep inclines.
And if that proves too difficult to do
I’ll press delete and write a quick haiku.