Chatter
’Tis a relief and a gift
for a novice like me
to fall from favor so easily.
Where I cannot compete with
sharp tongues and wit
I’ll take my leave
A nice corner I’ll sit.
It’s all for the best,
I’ve not parried enough
to feign and twist or
Bluff off the cuff.
I’ll concede to lay down
this weighty sabre
forthwith,
and retire my bid
for admiration
with this;
It’s much too much
for one of
confidences so lean
to be a witty nitwit
when the chatter
turns mean.
S Lynn Knight 2016
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