Jumping On The Bandwagon

I am beginning to feel some of my readers are guilty of this crime. Though come to think of it, what is a bandwagon? And if several readers jumped at once, would it collapse, or merely overturn?

Perhaps I should stop following this unproductive line of thought, and focus on the accepted meaning of the phrase. As I understand it, it's a way of describing a somewhat copycat mindset.
It would seem, after noting my fairly fast following up on their suggestions for poetic subject matter, that several Blogpersons are challenging me to pit my wits against unseen forces of inspiration on a somewhat regular basis.

More than once has Gumbo Writer prompted me in this fashion. Sometimes I can reply 'by return', as it were, but occasionally it takes a while to get my thinking into gear. Such was the case recently, when in an email of hers, she remarked that my phrase 'the larks and owls would never meet' sounded as though it should warrant a poem of its own.

Eventually, the cogs and wheels whirred, and I emailed her the resultant lines - for her eyes only, as you might say. But then I got to thinking, why limit readership? Why not cast it on the waters of Blogland's Inland Sea, securely corked in typical green glass bottle, and let it wash up on some far distant shore as fate, time and tide decreed? (Thinks:- Do inland seas have tides?)

Therefore, thanks to Angie and my clanking cogs, I give you:-

Larks and Owls

The Larks and Owls would never meet,
should each to his own rhythm keep.
Larks, who wake a break of dawn,
long before it's midnight, Y..A..W..N.
But Owls, who choose to lie abed
until the sun its beams have shed,
at dark, revive to full alert;
they're lively, witty, brisk and pert.
Then, night-time Owls come out to play,
while morning Larks all hide away
beneath their duvets, sound asleep,
as Owls their nightly vigil keep.

Bon Voyage, little green bottle... may you have a safe journey to those distant realms. And if you happen upon it yourself, Oh! Unknown Castaway, please reseal it after reading, and return to the deeps. Who knows where it may land next?