NaPoWriMo 2012: sixteen

A Semi-Metapoetic Ghazal

It's Monday morning and I'm writing poetry.
Always and forever, always and forever, writing poetry.

Can't find the vaccination records we need. School
nurse is getting impatient but there's always poetry.

My husband goes to the gym three days a week.
I can't be bothered, gotta dance it out in poetry.

Words of blue: rain, sky. Words falling down everywhere
among us. Words that can only be described as poetry.

Where is the killer instinct when you need it?
Where are the hordes lining up to buy my poetry?

In this moment, I'm singing along to the Bare Naked
Ladies, who are neither naked nor ladies: poetry.

Monday morning; wish I had iced this coffee.
Monday morning: coffee rhymes with poetry.

Who knows how to hold the summer in a bottle?
Who can give me this sun all year round? Poetry. 

Love is an effervescent state. I've been in love for almost
half my life now: it's all poetry (except when it isn't).

The most wonderful thing about the ghazal is
randomness. Chaos and beauty. Oh, this poetry!

Hallelujah, praise the One, over and over. Words
bring me back to the point of it all, poetry.

The only worries in a ghazal is: do I delete this? And
where in the order should the couplet go? Ah, poetry.

Today let me go forth and be productive. Today
let Lexie mix wonderment and work with poetry.