I am filled with May

I thought that there were no good  rhymes for ebb
And so I could no sonnet write today.
But  then I thought of Adam’s stolen rib,
And how the Lord enjoys a  little play.

I thought there were no rhymes at all for flood
My competence was at its lowest ebb.
But then we saw  old trees ,astonished, bud
And I wrote this upon the world wide web.

I thought no word could ever rhyme with neap
And so I fell into a writer’s dock
The sight made all the singing blackbirds weep
And hence I raised my head from off the block.

I thought I’d write  no poetry today
But  now I have and I am filled with May.