I don’t have any other poems for this month but thought I would participate anyhow.
Today’s prompt is to write a number in the title poem.
Ode to “9”
A long time ago in the west
A boy swore he’d try out his best
He tried to have fun
With one word he was done
The number nine he wore on his chest
The boy who thought he could count
Upon a large steed he did mount
He thought nine was a charm
He yelled raising his arm
His words flowing, like out from a fount
The boy laughed and rode far away
For more than nine nights and a day
When he got home
Said he’s done with the roam
And upon his small bed he did lay.
©2020 CBialczak Poetry