Our Parrot Was A Poet Poem by Chris Embrick

We learned our parrot was a poet
When to her prose she added rhyme
Her favorites were Keats and Spenser
She liked Shelley for a time
But when she heard Poe, was frightened
To our imploring closed the door
Not one sonnet, not one Rondeau
All she said was nevermore
Even reading Frost and Teasdale
Rehearsed before her, favorite lore
We thought our breakthrough surely Chaucer
But her reply was nevermore.
Oh, how she loved Wordsworth, Milton
Parker, Browning days before
Now she sits high on the mantle
Watches close our chamber door
We found her body, feathers ruffled
Cold and silent on the floor
Our pretty Polly once enlightened
Her recitations so adored
In honor of Poe and the Raven
We changed her name to Lenore.