She drew a picture,
Appraised it with admiring eyes.
When she thought she'd like to paint
The green of trees, the blues of skies.
Her paint brush she took in hand,
But when she tried to capture
The beauty of nature's scenes
The joy, the rapture
She found an artist was not she;
She sighed but then came laughter.
An inspiration came to her;
She wrote with admiration.
"Ah ha! A poet that's me," thought she.
But alas!
'Twas just imagination.