Please bear with my painful rhymes in my dedication to the letter
My K is missing,
I think it’s run away.
I can’t write anything
if I don’t find my K.
I could write about Kansas
or Kramer’s, I suppose
but those are things about which everybody knows.
I could write about Kings or Knights
who Kiss damsels in distress
but my brain seems to be under duress.
I could write about a Kangaroo
who dates a Koala bear
but I’d rather visit Australia first
before I share.
Barb says, “The kiwi and the kakapo
begin to take offense
to visit Aus before NZ
simply makes no sense!”
Perhaps it is Karma that K ran away
for without my K, I have nothing to say.