All along the garden highway
Blackbirds sing out of tune.
If the world had been built my way,
They would be gone by June.
Blackbirds find their way to me
In every time of year.
Out prompting me to always be
Drowning myself with beer.
I found myself writing these lines in uneven couplets totally by accident. I wrote the first line with eight syllables and the second line with six. I don’t know the technical name for this type of meter, but I do know that it is a very popular way to write poetry. So popular, in fact, that I did it without even meaning to.