Reviewed by Kathryn A on 23rd October 2001 (3)
When fannish verse I do espy I oftmost take my heels and fly, For it is often mawkish stuff, Dead serious or sickly fluff (especially the verse that's free for that's the hardest poetry to master, for it lacks a frame of discipline to help its course). But not all poems are the same, And this one, since I knew its source To be someone I'd read before, whose works I did indeed endorse, I thought this time I would explore This work whose title caught my eye; So solemn, it would either bore Or mock itself with tone so wry it brings a smile; I did rejoice for mock it did, and smile did I. This poem spoke in Sandburg's voice, with a touch of obfuscation; The author picked out words of choice, I give to her congratulation.
I offer my apologies to those who have endured my rhyme but me did inspiration seize and so I spent both pen and time (though I messed up my rhyming scheme) writing this, my muse renewing; Alas this is (like a bad dream) longer than what I'm reviewing!