The Spoonbill Generator

Stolen From Steel Factory Sirens

The skies were heavy as an ounce of osmium, [Apsley]

And dark as the hate between Serb and Bosnian, [fester]

As leaden as a lump of lead in a lead-lined box [Beefy]

Or the putrid embrace of a doxy with the pox [Apsley]

In short, it looked like rain [Beefy]

My thoughts turned inward with the force of lihium, [Apsley]

Confused as the fates described by the Pythian [Beefy]

As broken as a broken break in a brake drum [Grayman]

When witches whirl around a pilot's thumb [Apsley]

In short, I was in pain [P]

I leant upon a rock that looked obsidian [Beefy]

To those of frame of mind quite Freudian [Apsley]

As hard as the diamond shard in hardened heart [Glider]

Is the frosty love of my old Irish tart [Apsley]

She's short and has no brain [Glider]

Contributors: Apsley, fester, Beefy, Grayman, P, Glider.
Poem finished: 26th July 2002.