Rhyme-Monger

Most everyday like egg I lay
                            A lyric smooth,
Of even time and ready rhyme,
                            My skill to prove;
I ponder it as snug I sit
                            In book-lined den,
And when it's done to lunch I run
                            Like clucking hen.

When I immerse myself in verse,
                            Pursuing rhyme,
Life's fuss and fret I fain forget,
                            So speeds the time.
The Muse incites the man who writes
                            Sweet words to clink,
And to him sings delightful things
                            He failed to think.

A verse a day keeps care away
                            And happy I'm
To count with lip and finger tip
                            Syllabic chime;
And having laid my egg and made
                            My lyric drive,
I park my pen, so happy when
                            A poem I've.