As for meter, she thought it was gas

She said she was writing free verse
Trying to be pointed but terse.
But the rhymes kept on appearing
So  she gave then a hearing
And she copied them all, which is worse!

As for meter, she thought it was gas
Which sooner or later would pass
So I said to her, Rita
Why not look up meter?
She said, I would  rather sound crass

It’s all in the music of mind
To sing  too is  extremely unkind
So we sat on the sofa
And  I admitted I loved her.
So we went to lie down , to unwind.

I  heard her call, would you like tea?
I wanted her to sit on my knee.
We both kissed and made eyes
Then ate apple pies.
It seems like a daydream,we’ll see.