The Unseen Chill
The 'Spoonbill Chill' hung over the land
And made the mud like unto sand
The skies grew dark, and near at hand
Even the Sun wouldn't take a stand
And thus it is that hake are wise
Not learning how to fantasise
Or even photosynthesise
...they go deeper, to avoid the 'Spoonbill chill'
But how prevent the numbing fear?
The all-enwrapping atmosphere
The startled panic of a deer,
Forewarns that none may enter here
'The Chill' settles in...
The air is redolent of sin
all salmon quake within the tin
Whether oil or brine therein
The legend grows of those who write
And lose thereby the power of sight
To see the things that are not there
Ya gotta have that 'Spoonbill Stare'
But I can't help thinking, by and large
"I loved the summer spent with Marge"
Or else, at Easter, of a threne
Our minds are blown by the 'Spoonbill Chill Machine'
Contributors: | nomi, The Agent Apsley, TG, Grayman, Stacy, a.haw, P, A.HAW. |
Poem finished: | 7th May 1999. |