Parental Advisory

Hear Ye. Hear Ye. Here we propose to posit prose poetry
forming a form of continuous connectivity,
to communicate considerable contemplative reflectivity.

Simply put, we pose this where
prose poetry is what you’ll hear
when wondering where the time went
while reading such rhyme wonderments
as oft are wrought, and revealed thusly,
each whit of wit written Hieronymously.

Move It

Pardon me. You can see, as pertains to that subject, 
in deference and reference to what others suspect, 
the answer for dancers, and all others who move, 
varies very little in terms of their 'groove' - 
a conceptual vision in rhythmic relation 
to who sees it coming, given one's motivation. 

If words get one moving, I'll tell you what then. 
Exercise! Practice! Just get those reps in! 
Stretch & Relax - those two acts, simply stated 
in this way one could say, show a self-motivated 
position recognition in a place at a time, 
as the facts of the acts are related in rhyme. 

At my ease, as I please, and discretion I show you 
just what compliments me, and what I'm opposed to 
in verse with this terse but distinct little ditty 
with nary one curse. Well, except that it's shitty. 
I think this verse stinks with a wink and a nod. See, 
in truth, in my youth I wrote never this oddly. 

As you see, I write me. Neither Shakespeare nor Donne 
would think such a stink could make a movement fun 
to read. Do concede, or you'll have to admit 
you've wasted your time on my rhyme, you nitwit! 
Posit or pass, I was just thinking through to 
the act, if in fact, all my words here could move you.