Verse Libre is the devil..

To write in verse,
you know it,
it often takes much time.
Its the curse
of every poet
to find a word that rhymes.

With 'moon' and 'June'
exhausted
and 'wine' paired up with 'sign'.
his ambition soon
is thwarted
to add another line

A desperate man
he'll try to
rhyme 'know' with 'how'.
His most ardent fan
would cry too,
"Alas, a dirty trick, I trow."

A poets bane
however,
is easy to divine
Its when he's vain,
not clever
and ends the last but one line,
With 'purple'..