Accidents to Unwary Playmates
In the timeless forests of the north
My saw and I, we sally forth
Among the oak, the pine, the larch
I'm OK, but philosophers parch
Vassell brought forth the chalice of Victory
Made of wood, that was not hickory
And then turned to gold by magic and trickery
Bidding the glade a fond valedictory
The Elves and Dwarves all gather round
With hopes that J.R.R.'s been drowned
Now nothing lives where Ents once roamed
And even the sea has long since foamed
Allusions abound, yet this poem has no teeth
GUTS YOU REQUIRE, not here
Illusions astound those whose home lies beneath
Ent roots, termites cry in their beer
Neath the trees and ferns of forests shroud
Termites munch their lunch out loud
Their aim to further the methane cloud
All of us should be so proud!
Contributors: | keith c, Kansas Sam, loaf, DaddyCool, Stacy Alexander, Beefy. |
Poem finished: | 18th April 2003. |