Apology In Case

Onto the nets then the old boy stumbled
Constant writing daily
Finding these poets, the old boy, humbled,
Threw his hat in gaily

Posting in places he'd not gone before
Daring, darting, wincing
Shamed by the beauty of sonnets and yore
Crafted and convincing

Still in the hopes that his craft could be honed
Practice, practice, practice
And with a dream that true praise could be owned
practice, practice, practice

And as he writes on the pages therein
Finding friends in forums
He hopes not to commit a cardinal sin
Or that they'll ignore'ems. :)

One of my first, tentative poems on the internet, posted for my newfound friends at TPS