The Spoonbill Generator

Calf-Length Flight-Bone Prospects

Gilded by an autumn sun [dkb]

And clouds that bore not taint [Apsley]

Russet-hued October leaves [fester]

Bedded thickly in the ditch. [Apsley]

Where the busy, hungry voles [fester]

Forage for they know not what [Apsley]

On this cold and sunny day. [fester]

In the gentle breeze, the leaves drift down [Apsley]

Crimson, puce, vermilion ... never brown. [loaf]

This, our land, does beckon on [Apsley]

The priest and the pantechnicon [Roland]

Who mutter truths to thinning air [Apsley]

Who utter truckloads of depair [Roland ]

Into the ears of babes and strays. [Apsley]

In the fatal vacuum, Nature bleats [Roland]

An empty aching threne that beats the brain. [Apsley]

Contributors: dkb, Apsley, fester, loaf, Roland.
Poem finished: 23rd October 2001.