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Post by anirbas on May 20, 2013 0:06:14 GMT -6
I sit here plucking this lyre,
beseeching you vocally
to come play with me.
What lovely music
we'll together make.
Forsake, me naught...
For I shall keep singing...
And it's obvious
I can only play this lyre...
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Post by anirbas on May 20, 2013 0:15:17 GMT -6
Oh, where oh, where,
are my fellow poeteers...
Do you know if they are near
or far? Can we get there by a car,
or must we take a plane or a bus?
I'll give you a buss if I must,
if only you'll show me where they are....
And once again, forsake me naught...
For I shall keep singing until an answer I have...
And it's obvious, I can only play this lyre...
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Post by anirbas on May 20, 2013 0:25:31 GMT -6
Oh, these days, I'm always missing
my wistful dragon, oh she of the purple scales.
Once upon a time, we spirit walked together
and ran up and down many trails...
We shared happy moments and travails
and often were seen leaving the scene
of many a farscial crime, but, we have as yet,
to go to gaol together...Perhaps, that's a gooood thing...
And once again, have you seen her fiercesome visage?
And mock me naught, because waught, I shall keep singing
until an answer I have, and it's obvious I can only play this lyre...
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Post by anirbas on May 20, 2013 0:27:55 GMT -6
And not to mention,
what the hell happened to Was?
Did he disappear in a forested glen, somewhere?
Was he riding a bike? Or did he take a hike?
Oh, tell me, tell me, do you know?
Because I reiterate, I shall keep singing
until an answer I have...And it's waught?
Obvious I can only play this lyre...
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Post by anirbas on May 20, 2013 0:32:03 GMT -6
And as far as that goes,
I don't suppose anyone knows,
where in hades is Nimbus Glow?
Oh, he who named us,
The Poeteers, and left star
dust in his wake...
Forsake me naught...
Please here my query....
For otherwise, I shall wauuuuuught?
I shall keep on singing until an answer I have...
And it's obvious I can only play this lyre...
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Post by anirbas on May 20, 2013 0:46:07 GMT -6
As I am rambling, I am remembering
more comrades in a very long time
I have not seen...I once enjoyed
many an intelligent conversation
with a poet goes by the name
of J. Yamrus and nothing else...
But, I know what happened
to him, he went off on a quest,
and though I wish him the best,
he could drop by and say
Prithee, doth thou hath
any Grey Poupon?
Him, I never expect
to see here in, again,
but, I re-read his books,
none-the-less...
Howsomever,
be that as it may,
has anyone seen our fellow
witch and mutineer, Samantha, anywhere?
We used to frolic through the night, getting up to high jinx
and creating potions, spells and rebellion everywhere we went...
And Dawn, oh she of the fairytale islands,
where, oh, where is our Dawness, now?
It seems I'm not getting anywhere, because I'm still singing,
and it's obvious I can only play this lyre...
Unless of course, my audience is tone deaf...
In that case, I've wasted by breath...
None the less, it's still painfully obvious,
to the shell of mine own delicate ear,
I can still only play this lyre...
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Post by anirbas on May 21, 2013 20:37:40 GMT -6
I sit here plucking this lyre,
beseeching you vocally
to come play with me.
What lovely music
we'll together make.
Forsake, me naught...
For I shall keep singing...
And it's obvious
I can only play this lyre...
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