Really Awful Rhyme in Seventeen Silly Bubbles

Although you here may very well enquire as to what the fliipin’ heck,
You’ll find it gives expression to our desire for building on a deck!

The NaPoWriMo Day 27 (actually, GloPoWriMo for those like me outside the U S of A) prompt challenges one to produce a poem of seventeen syllables per line: 

To write impossibly extended lines, let us try a limerick:

It would be interesting to discover if that can do the trick,

Although, when you get to the end of a line

You’ve kind of lost track whether everything’s fine,

And they look artificial, all the extra words you have in to stick.

 

Mayhap, though, we should seek to wander down that road where the sonnets dwell,

And fill our lines with flowery words related to love and desire?

Although a sonnet with so many syllables does not do too well,

And hardly sets the poetic muse on anything resembling fire …

 

An ode, perchance?  As in, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, Ode to an Ode here?

Thy form is bad, not lending itself to presenting proper praising,

In fact, this attempt to venerate and hold thee so extremely dear,

Is merely going to have the result of lots of eyebrow-raising …

 

No, all in all, to stretch the lines to accommodate seventeen beats,

At the end of the day Is a waste of time, which the object defeats.

© April 2016 Colonialist (WordPress)