Introduction: Why I Rhyme
"It’s Mom’s fault!"
Don Husted, Sr.
All my life it seems, I’ve wanted to be A purveyor of reams of poetry. It all started when I was about nine Mom rhymed her conversation with mine. We’d go on for days at a time Whatever we said, it was said in rhyme.
It got to be so much fun, We’d do it with everyone. Even now that I’m an older timer, I still like to be known as a rhymer.
I asked the publisher if she knew this When I said I wanted to do this. She said she didn’t see any harm So I quit twisting her arm!
Sooooo, without further ado I herewith share some with you. And if you find them awful, what can I say Except a guy don’t get a chance like this every day!