A Poem About the Curious Grocer Who Accidentally Summoned the Spirit of Poetry

Oh, poetry! Once summoned from the hell, your ghost refused to leave. I can’t expel the sweetest demon who possessed my mind, my heart, my soul, my daily things, my rhymed insomnia, my quill and my inkwell. In time, I put up with the mademoiselle who settled in my brainpan, but, to tell the truth, I miss the times I left behind, oh, poetry. Nor charm, no chant, no hex, no magic spell, a grocery, a loyal clientele, everyday words for which I must not find a rhyme, a rhythm, a form and all this kind of things… And no qualms, if I misspell. Oh, poetry! 7/19/2019 Rondeau Poetry Contest Sponsored by: charles messina P.S.: I know it's not a tetrameter, required by the contest, but let it be my tribute to a such devilishly difficult genre like rondeau)