Hail to the cliché!
By Julie Leibrich
I woke up one Spring morning with the first verse buzzing round my head and just continued to think of idioms.
Maybe a sonnet has to be serious; maybe not?
A WORD IN YOUR EAR
I’ve got to see a man about a dog.
He’s not called Jack; he’s not all work, no play.
My life is like a mirror in a fog.
The world’s my oyster. What more can I say?
I’ve got to be footloose and fancy free,
tickle my fancy when and where I want,
be tickled pink, not busy as a bee,
say Bob’s your uncle, not my giddy aunt.
I haven’t room to swing a Cheshire cat.
I’m caught between a hard place and a rock.
I want to knock time into a cocked hat
and tell the clock where it can put a sock.
The knives are out when silly words are uttered.
A poet knows which side her bread is buttered.
By Julie Leibrich