Parody of my Poems.

Parody of my poems :

Am I penning in Anne Hathaway's street in London?

No, I'm no less than Tolstoy when it comes to writing in derivation.

This amenity of books

is making me hooked.

Ample of wordings

And a votive of concurring,

Mightn't express the desirability of wanderlust

Which, however, is a must.

I'm not funkier than a rock player,

But I'm Fully-fledged to footloose myself

Whilst love is in the air.

My words aren't impeccable,

But loopy enough to overdo

A nifty quest rhetorical

Perhaps it's supercilious to supersede,

The Wordsworth of flowers and sow ist seed.

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