Some More

Day 53:

Last Tuesday Night

Well the GM looked quite poorly,
As I got home Tuesday night
All dressed up to go running,
but hunched and shivering – quite a
sight,
On the couch I left him,
snuggled in, he began to snore.
I cursed the cold and darkness
and struggled out the door
The traffic was at a standstill
as I persevered out West,
To the Etals! I was eager,
to run the run! (I jest).
The run began quite slowly,
just one check, one halt we’re told,
and all up and down ole’ Massey
we bundled Hashers strolled
The path it was well marked,
in paper, flour and chalky trail
(we were told that DD ate some
of the tasteless hashing braille)

When the roads looked all familiar
(though granted, rather dark)
and the hills looked all slippery,
We found the Pisstop at Don Buck Park.
Ignoring signs of ‘no drinking,’
We drank and ate with glee,
and then on home it was
(it wasn’t too far you see).
Back home Petal had accomplished
A magnificent feast for one and all,
Even me ( now that I’m fussy)
Scoffed much upon Kracken’s call.

With Meatballs and rice (two types),
And vegan curry too
Upside down pineapple cake
And fish-sticks for you-know-who.
Full and thoroughly buggered,
We all enjoyed the yak,
Then Kraken started fining
Yea, our singing’s always slack.
On Home I did return,
Expecting to find GM in bed,
But no – he was on the computer
Eating chocolate cake instead.

Day 54:Summer dawn

Sunshine makes the grass glow
And smiles grow
As flowers show

Dainty heads bursting free
For the bee
To come see

Leaves unfurl their springtime face
Every place
A happy face

Skies shine blue and clear and high
Sun idles by
Calmly sighs

A warm wind promises longer days
Summer rays
Laughter plays

Day 55:Excitement Building

Happiness is bursting free
joy pours from all parts of me
I feel it in every single vein
a fire I could not restrain

What is this feeling and where's it from?
Is it just that spring has sprung?
And now that the sun can glow bright,
I feel that all will be alright.

Summer's knocking on the door,
Promising fun and I want more
This day light is a drug I swear,
clearing shadows and ending fear.

Pale skin glows and drinks it in,
warming with it's giddy grin,
too soon the night! But never mind
Soon comes the day when clocks unwind

And then I'm sure heat will prevail,
and burn and scorch all it can assail.
But who cares? Winter's ended
and the world must be refriended.

Day 56:Must. Not. Give. Up.

The pen has run itself out of ink,
and there is nothing left to think
The well is emptied, its innards dry,
rocks will not weep for want nor try

and though a goal is halfway done,
its still a long way to run
bake the cake but lacking flour,
we ponder words for many an hour

what to say? what to write,
the words will not form tonight
not before has such a drought
filled my mind with literary doubt

when a wall is all that one can see
a poem about that wall must be
purge the wall from thought and brain
and begin again refreshed again

Will this block recede when writ?
or is this the end of poetic wit?
can I go on - or will I fail?
and have meandering sentences that awkwardly trail…


Day 57:Purge-a-story

Writing quickly with much haste
I haven't any time to waste
Quick think words that have rhyme and thought
And link them in phrases as though they ought

If words sound clunky, trim and refine
Count out the syllables of each line
But not today, today,  we speed
For quickly writ is the greater need

Sloppy can pass today as gold

I'll put down thoughts however bold

As long as it's fast, it'll be put on screen

It doesn't matter what it may mean.

Day 58:Wordvomit

Into a lake of fire and storm
A careless dryad dipped deep and warm
Her heart was burnt and her life put out
Sleeping on the rivers drought

A hapless hag sought a bigger prize
And took a log before her eyes
Home to use as fuel for flame
Destruction for resource, no blame game

All dryads dreams went up in smoke
And a passing rouge made a crude joke
As the world elsewhere continued to spin
In all it's many and varied sin

A few More

Day 50:

Sexy knickers

Sexy knickers riding high
Doing naught but chafing thigh
Fancy bra of fanciful hue
Not quite built for holding two

Underwear is rarely sought
For anything outside support
Yet in drawers of drawers plain
Are those taboo and less mundane

Briefs so brief they barely are
And lacy things quite bizarre
Things with holes in front and back
And the thong for the magnetic crack

All the garments sit unworn
As days go by and I'm torn
Between the shorts old and soft
With the bra holding boobs aloft

Or something sexy but sorely felt
As it digs in below the belt
Looking great but unseen
As underclothes have mostly been

So once again I pick the shorts
Unglamorous but worth retorts
For I will be comfy in my gear!
... Depending on which dress I wear...

Day 51:Waiting

Hands tick by,
seconds go past
watch it fly
failing to last

soon becomes now
what is soon was
not knowing how
there is no pause

stir discomfort
powerless we
wait to buffer
towards the see

A coaster strains
cresting the hill
blinded by pains
downwards we spill

whipping through all
carts plummet on
ignoring your call
bring terror upon

Tick tock tick tock
beware the clock
for it controls time
and it cannot be stopped.

Day 52:Questions

Where we exist is telling
of our self and of our fate

for if we live in present
we surely lack restraint

and if we dwell in the past
then we have much regret

but if we work for tomorrow
we’re living on a bet

do we wait for dice to roll
before we make our move?

do we do as we have always done,
making ruts in this groove?

do we cast aside concerns
and just exist for joy?

do we close our eyes and shrug,
dancing chance’s ploy?

Will happiness come from asking why
or learning not to care?

Will contentment be in success
or from avoiding all we fear?

Will questions bring us answers
or drown us as they breed?

should we ignore suspicions
and not let dissention seed?

Which of the paths is righter?
to be ignorant and free?

Or to suffer and be learned?
(however cliche that may be)

And do we get to make that choice?
in blindness there’s not light

we may not know we're happy,
until all is put to plight.

And then surely we’ll look back
in derision of complaint

Wishing we’d spent time laughing
instead of worrying about what ain’t. 

Fell off the bandwagon. Alas.

Whelp,

I've written the poems! they're all on the project page.

I'll do a dump now though!

Day 46:

Sideline Dinners                      

 

As I sit and watch you eat
your cheesy pizza full of meat
I nibble broccoli and sprouts
ignoring my head full of doubts

Green is good and raw is great
Learning to love the foods I hate
But the smell of deep fried chips
brings frothing saliva to my lips

Sprinkle spice to make it hot
then pretend it is what its not
'I am happy with these vege,'
'I will not surrender,' this is my pledge

Munch Munch Munch, chew and swallow
in regrets I shall not wallow
Meals are simple and soon forgot
but the healthy feels will grow a lot.

Day 47 : Money

My wallet is choked
The bank account poked
Slush funds have run dry
My savings do cry

How hard is it to budget?
When there's a sale I'll fudge it
But otherwise I'm smart
And careful to an art

But then A and E for one,
And that's a hundred done
Then doctor, and I was new
So quickly a ninety blew

Testing that's not funded,
Fifty dollars they plundered
The AA wanted me to renew
And the ms society subscription too

Also there's the new diet
No meat or dairy and can't fry it
So fresh veges and fresh fish
Make a quick, but costly dish

Where does it all go?
So hard earned with naught to show
Next month will be tighter
And my spending must be lighter.

Day 48 Herring and Now

Hey little fish in the ocean,
Im sorry, it's scary out there,
There is so much world to see
Yet so much hurt you might bear,

But swim straight and strong and true
And don't get distracted by hooks
For though they are baited delicious
At the end they are just greedy crooks

How will you know then, the morsel
The one that it is safe to eat?
I guess that it is hard to know,
So nibble a few as a treat.

But most of all embrace the water
Feel it hug you as it passes by
This is the life to sustain you
As is air to a bird of the sky

Feel yourself grow strong in the tide
Know that you are unique in the sea
Schooling or hermit, you're destined
To find where you're going to be.

Day 49:

Bed

These days I love to nap,
To snuggle and to sleep
Nestled in a blanket wrap
I'll surrender and fall in deep

In dreaming there be adventure
Yet while warm and soft inside
With no dissent to censure
All Possibilities can ride

that's while eyes are lidded
And sometimes mine are wide
As I take in books unbidded
And learn all the things words hide

Bed is a place of wonder
And you'll often find me here
It is a place to ponder
Or dream without a care.

But I like bed best when together
With my Chris who loves it too,
we'll cuddle through all weather
Murmuring our 'I love you's.

Day 42:Musings, Day 43:To Shedinn, Day 44:Mouse and Day 45:Success!

Musings

The problem with contentment
is it leaves me uninspired
and when I go searching
I find very little thats desired

Writing words on satisfaction,
is a journey in mundane
for the life when ordinary
is a story rather plain

Some say art is reflection
but when there’s naught to see
does a mirror become a window
Or is chaos straining free

Is inner peace a bandaid
hiding truth from seeking light
are we really blinded
when we think things are alright

Or can I just not be bothered
finding fault in privileged life
building guilt that silences
my petty thoughts of strife.

To Shedinn

There once was a Dragonboard Bard,
Who found effective diplomacy hard,
as much as he talked
nobody balked
And combat had left him quite scarred,

In towns he collected some stuff,
and made potions when he had enough
ones that’d go bang,
and impress the whole gang
surely then they would think he was tough.

Soon the undead were all round,
and our heroes had beat them to ground
with charging and fire
the situation looked dire
but a victory was certainly sound

However our bard got a hot head,
and rushed to the big boss instead,
with a gloating stare
she froze him there
and pretty soon he was nearly dead.

But part of this heroes load,
was twenty-nine bottles he’d stowed,
and upon his demise,
with a bit of surprise,
The Dragonborn was born to explode

Fire, lighting and acid rained,
leaving many to feel quite pained,
the big boss was done
the heroes had won
though, not much of value was gained.

Mouse

A little mouse hid from the whole of the world
In his corner he'd built a nest and up curled
Here he was safe from the cats and the sounds
This was his sanctuary, alone under grounds

The mouse was a coward, though he called himself wise
Knowing He who stands to be brave, does, falls and dies.
Far better the life lived long in a hole
Than the death cut short from a ill chanced roll

So the mouse existed for years with great care
Living every day in perpetual fear
For should nary a whisker stray out of place
Then the mouse might've fallen flat on his face

Nothing came of the mouse who never took risk
At the end it was like he didn't even exist
What was the point? Well perhaps there is none
Except to make most of every day under the sun.

Success!

Aching arms and groaning legs
'No more, please', the body begs,
'Just once more,' bargains the brain
I'm sure we can ascend again

Wrapped around and pulled tight
Scrambling clumsily to alight
Up and up, straining to hold
'Youre doing well,' the limbs are told

So high up, higher than before
A danger now, the fall to floor
Hold legs tight and downwards slide
Burning fingers lack skill and hide

But still! At last! progress was made
All that effort handsomely paid
For now that's easy, something new
Something else impossible to do

Day 40:An Ode and Day 41:Retrospective Correction

An Ode

Farewell. So long
Good bye
This will be hard
I'll try

A different road
I tread
A changed outlook
Instead

I've loved you more
Than's good
If you could stay
I would

The choice was hard
To keep
Focused forward
And reap

My life goes on
Without
I'll try forget
No doubt

You'll always be
Right there
I'll struggle to
Not care.

I will be strong
And brave
To deny myself
The crave.

Breathe in and out.
Head high,
Today is good
I'll fly.

Retrospective Correction

Before you lies a poem
with words all in a line
and it may be read quickly
or not at all (that’s fine),

A poem each day is telling
and inside my head you’ll look
each day a different cranny
of my subconscious’s nook

Sometimes my words are woeful,
laced with dark thoughts and regret
other times delightful
and more still, nonsense, yet...

in the silly there are secrets
as I attempt to push you out
those are days when sharing
is an ideal I strongly doubt.

Often they will be the days
when you end up in space
away from my inner workings,
perhaps in an imagined place.

It was not done on purpose,
I myself was caught unaware,
when I found myself thinking
“no one wants to read that here.”

And what dishonesty is that?
to be so judging of you,
so from now on I’ll try
to keep every one word true.

And if that means I’m fighting
with demons hidden deep
you’ll be right beside me,
if my company you’ll keep

Day 38:2nd Migraine in a week and Day 39:Choices

2nd Migraine in a week 
My brain is on fire
the pain is intense
another migraine
nothing makes sense

the ache grows fast
overtaking my mind
I’ve taken my drugs
but I’m still going blind

everything is so loud
every noise is a shout
the nausea rises
dinner wants to get out

Unsteadily stumbling
I lie on the floor
clambour for sleep
so i don’t feel much more

unnatural agony
holds ransom my thought
my brain drums my skull
a beat so distraught

Come now, angel white
take hold of the pain,
extinguish the fire
make me sane again

its only been ten,
my back starts to groan
the pain radiates
right down to the bone

I think I should rest
get  broken to bed
pray that sleep takes
and soothes my raging head.

Choices

Before lies two paths
neither desired
one hard, but safe,
one's lazy, and I’m tired

The path that cares
naught for tomorrow
is easy and simple,
but may lead to sorrow

the path that climbs
the mountain ahead
is a mission, alas
and it fills me with dread

restriction, control,
a life lived in fear,
futility or failure
what choice is there?

For if I go down
a path while blind
ignoring all truth
putting fact out of mind

then I will only have
myself to blame
when at the end
my legs go lame.

so the decision is made
though not really by me
for I want a life
where I can be free.

Unfortunately I've not been well. Damned illness. It's taken its toll on my writing and I've decided (or had the decision made for me really) to start an uber restrictive diet (following doc's recommendations). No meat (except Seafood), no dairy, no saturated fats. It's really scary for the butter and steak loving girl that I am.

Practically vegan - the most reluctant one ever. 

Day 37: Up

Up

Soaring up high in the air,
free as a bird, without a care
looking down on all that’s there
a beauty one can hardly bear

the world, a swirly blue-green ball
on which all life will rise and fall
Here is home, for one and all
a dust fleck in a cosmic hall

Day 36:He.

He.

As I look upon your face
I am filled with serene grace
and I know this is my place
To be,

I have taken cupid’s dart,
he has struck me through the heart
I can no more be apart,
from thee,

Your soul lights mine and flares bright,
bringing joy to all in sight
none can see and not delight,
for we,

Heart in hand, we will grow old,
our love will, through time, be told
as tales of queens and kings bold
with glee,

But for now we live in peace,
with promises our love shan't cease
ever tucked in my heart’s crease,
You’ll be.

Day 35:Bubble

Bubble

A world in a bubble,
Insulated from trouble,
Secure and small
unnoticed by all

the isolation station
of an island nation
together but alone
it is all we have known

don’t breach the wall
the safeties may fall
keep everything in
conserve oxygen

eternally pacing,
testing the spacing
of the bars of our cage
silently riot with rage

Day 32:Heater, Day 33:Apology, Day 34:Shades

Heater

There’s something kinda nice
about a heater in the cold
outside can turn to frost and ice
in here is warmth foretold

The warmth makes all things well
his dark stripes holding me in
My lungs fill with his smell,
My heart swells with his grin

The hand that runs through my hair
is gentle and reverent with joy
My forehead is speckled with care
and all that loving does employ

Apology

Today I'm feeling really shit,

so for a rhyme, this is it.

Shades

The saddest tale ever told,
was of a child who never grew old,
age is spurned by the conquest of time
As all march from youth to prime

And so the heart of the greatest clown
hid the struggles that held him down
trapped in a mind so great and kind
disease ate away, leaving naught behind

Sadness fills the void an absence makes
we shame and blame for the life it takes,
in a world of shades and none are white
there’s no path to take that’s always right

It's been a rough week with my MS slapping my around a little. Plus side is that new funding is being considered so I may be be eligible for treatment, which is a huge bonus. Fingers crossed!

Avalon 31/100

Avalon

Sitting, watching, suspicious- spy?
Is that a slip to catch my eye?
Proclaiming innocence, a lie?
Or giving truth his darndest try.

This is a game of clue and wit
Trying to sort who’s who from it
while unable to prove with teeth grit
hard to stand, let alone sit.

Mission check, success - no, fail.
Who has slipped onto our trail?
Has any face fallen pale?
Is there a hint here to hail?

Again, we go, you, you and me
On this quest, a trusted three
For I know - NO! this cannot be!
another failure here I see.

Is it you? Did you betray?
Shall we take him another day?
You can trust me - what can I say?
This is a silly game we play.

Once more upon our quest we go,
surely third time’s not such a blow,
Yes, yes and what - this can’t be so!
Well, Spies win (I’m one you know).

A hilarious game. Thoroughly recommended.

Eon (29) and steak (30) which could also be about sex.

Eon

The rivers always flowing
Down to meet the sea
The sun is always shining
Drinks all it can see

A strangled river sputters
Reaching across dry plains
A choking sun struggles
To shine through foggy rains

The ancient rivers frozen
Etched in deep red dirt
A lonely sun is barren
Watching life desert

Steak

I like steak,
Thick, juicy and rare
Hot and sweet
The best kind of meat
No other can compare

Eye fillet
Rump, Sirloin and scotch
Can't beat beef
For that tender relief
When you need a feed, top notch

This is mental apathy at its most dire. Steak and the passing of time. I am pretty sure I'm not even trying to say Nothing with these, just filling in numbers.

Inspiration come hither, my craft does wither. 

27 + 28 downsides and tomorrow will be better

Downsides

Today I feel bad,
Not angry, not sad
Just bad.

I’m feeling crabby,
bloated and flabby
and shabby.

My body aches
and my hand shakes
it breaks

perhaps early to bed
get grumps out o’my head
less said.

Tomorrow will be better

When I feel down and under the weather
I’ll do all I can to try and feel better
I’ll munch carrots and shun chocolate cake
Hoping to help the Holly that tomorrow will wake

For the Holly that’s now can live best to serve
to make tomorrow better on a gradient curve
and if she can try to prevent today’s pain
from surfacing tomorrow, then that’s a gain.

So I’ll chug all my vitamins and down little pills
they claim to stop inflammation, among other ills,
And maybe tonight I’ll sleep all the way through
without tossing and thrashing like I’m told I do

And the morning will see my arms without ache,
and hands that can move without fearing they’ll break
my brain will be normal and not full of fuzz
I could run and jump again, won’t that be a buzz?

26/100 Bleak

Across vast seas where folk differ and dwell
Cruel war rages devouring all who hope
Both right and wrong are lost as graveyards swell
Blackboards bear black as war clutters the scope

The young and old are marched with sticks and stones
To fight and die or flee and die this day
The morrow sees tears and medals on bones
When sorrow feels real, they'll regret deaths way

Our worlds must war and bombs must fall on schools
We're told by faces who scowl so safe and strong
They can't be shushed or made to look like fools
By those who die as peace is broke and wronged

Let days dawn bright, let joy unite us friend
we stand with hand in hand, until the end. 

25/100 - Epilogue

Epilogue

As night descends and darkness grows its Fae

Who come by dreams to steal and sow their fear

your candle’s gaze allows no tread to stray

No trick will draw me from this path so near

A field of gold is pale and lacks all wealth

If heaven does not smile upon his crop,

and so I too hang head and curse good health

'til dawn and joy unite and all times stop

If words could light the passage to your heart

If thoughts could hold you tight through all to be,

If hopes were seas and bound to never part

Then love alone would keep you safe for me

But Night and Day who pass so blind to pain,

Will not hold sway when we two meet again.

Trying my hand at sonnets. A little Shakespearean styled piece, from the living to the beloved dead. Structure was the focus here, please let me know if it's off.

24/100 - Against Myself

Motivation is tricky
not to think but to do
excuses are sticking
reluctance grew through

‘Why?' echoes loud,
hesitation rings back
doubt starts to crowd
determined to slack

'It’s fun' I protest
'good for the soul'
they laugh, not in jest
mocking my goal.

I will close my ears
as my brain tries to say no.
I’m not listening to fears,
the lazy won’t grow

'I’m going. I’m going,'
My internal chant.
No regrets owing,
its 'why not?' no 'can’t'.

Winer 23/100

Tonight I drank lots of wine,
and normally I can rhyme fine,
but my brain is a mess,
my skills are somewhat less
than they normally are at this time.

true the words are flowing more free,
than they would usually be
I keep forgetting the 'y'
in 'they', though I try
It seems to be the that I see.

And as the world starts to spin,
a 100 days promise I must begin
so I sit here and type
some nonsensical tripe
I’m pretty sure drinking’s a sin

But what do I care today,
as I drink the week’s cares away
cheap wine is girly
I don’t have to be early
I can sleep for all of Sunday.

To the reader 22/100

Did anyone tell you of late
That you are undeniably great
You - the one hearing this read,
out loud or in your head
This message that surely is fate.

I just want to say you're doing well
Even if things don't always feel swell
You have come so far
Im proud of who you are
And how you got up when you fell,

Even if you're still on your knees
(And really you could sit back with ease)
Take it all in,
There no rush to begin
You can take life however you please.

And look at all of your skill!
Your determination, your will!
You fill me with joy
I can't even be coy,
You make just living a thrill

So smile and breathe again deep
And make me a promise you'll keep
Whatever the weather,
We'll stick together
And you'll remember you're loved a whole heap!

Some Day

Some days I feel that my words are lazy,
flopping around, undefined and hazy
unstructured, uncouth, unrefined, and bland,
trying to paint Picasso’s with a bucket of sand

Some days I know my words are inspired,
burst from my brain, complex and fired
Unforgiving, untold, unimagined and grand
flowing with power that will ring through the land

Other days are harder to put wit to word,
often I'll delve into the strange and absurd
There I’ll find madness as though I were drunk
(I promise I’m not, this is all sober thunk)

Some days the words flow like summer's breeze,
plucking ripe apples from tops of the trees
into my lap they all fall with grace
akin to my rhythm where words fall in place

I’ve heard of days when no words come at all
but I haven’t seen one as I can recall
I trust that whatever may spout when I type
will at least be something, if nothing worth hype

But I long for days when I can rock lives
when few simple words can stop bullets and knives
If the sword could fall to the simple pen
could a powerful phrase bring peace again?

What would they be? The words that silence a gun,
Is there such a thing in any tongue?
I hope there is, and I hope they're found

Before the whole worlds is a hole in the ground

It's really hard to not be affected by all that goes on. Dealing with it appropriately is hard. I have enormous sympathy for those involved, but my opinion is of no consequence because I am so far away and so ignorant of all that they face. I am grateful for my peacetime and my freedom to be a silently confused and internally saddened observer. If I appear blasé it's because I don't know what to say.

Weekday Mornings 20/100

Dance upon the even tide,
dawn threatens the darkness wide
Kisses hide in grasses tall,
as waves scribe a sandy scrawl

Twilight sprinkles a crystal sky,
as the Man laughs from on high
a voyeur of heavens on mortal soil
watching us learn our capricious foil

Secret smiles dim a rising sun
sands and hands entwined as one
breathless winds refresh the soul
two hearts the fates've woven whole

Apollo races across the light
quiet facade hides with waning night
The world returns with all its sin
roaring with life’s chaotic din.

Won't let it win.

Don't let it in,

Stay.




For when waking and having to leave the dreamland (and dreamers) for the real world. 

Wordsmith 19/100

In my head is a kingdom of language
That rhymes with relative ease
It allows me to write fluidly
On whichever topics I please

This gift has always existed
First noticed when I was nine
Now I'm sure that if I honed it
I could rhyme every word in a line

I could build castles of metaphor
With personification running free
Adjective nouns adverbily verbing,
( wouldn't that be a sight to see),

Wallowing in words with mouthfeel
So soft and welcome and warm,
Not cut by corners of ragged edge,
That leave you gasping when they storm

Each word has a shape and a sound
A colour, a feel and a taste
Each can be moulded by others
Or drowned in overused waste

Words are always forgiving,
Less so those who find what you've said,
take care what you say to the public
But feel free to play in your head.

Word can build magical artworks,
With artisans far more skilled
I'll keep dissecting sandcastles
With words falling as spilled.

Of a Hairy Dwarf and a Yak 18/100

The buffoon had doubloons that he longed to spend
But he looked poor and the store with goods to vend
lacked the nerve to serve such a classless ass
and would click locks on the shops as he frolicked past

A cannier man would’ve been filled with despair
to pop to the shops and find nobody there
But Jim-Bill was simple and happy to boot
he’d smile all the while and returned to his route

Back at his shack he met a yak and a dwarf,
(straight off the boat, they wrote goat at the wharf)
He greeted and meted a welcome most kind,
not wary of those hairy from head to behind.

As does a friend tend to all ends needs,
Our host did the most, even toasted yak's seeds
until all filled, then they spilled their desire,
"sir, we concur, our fur, it is dire”

“it is grave to shave, but we crave bare skin!
"With nary wife nor knife where to begin? “
With their fear in the air, a single tear fell,
and Jim, though dim, felt his heart hymn swell.

“Whelp! I’ll help!” Jim yelped as he leapt to his feet
His blade was well laid and the trims made quite neat.
and when bare of all hair (did they wear pants?)
The two yelled woohoo and threw an impromptu dance

Full of food and nude (how rude), they found peace,
and praised an amazed Jim for his work on their fleece
its no surprise that a prize was offered, well earned
But no gift could shift t’wasnt thrift that Jim yearned

"Im not wise but no prize is as nice as a buddy,"
he shrugged as he hugged a dwarf in the nuddy,
so he slipped on their trip, and bought a ship (with his gold)
and looked poor no more, he was Jim-Bill the Bold
 

Some days, I can't think too much about what I'm writing or it'll stop. So I just go with the flow (so to speak.) It leads to some very odd places. And that's cool. I just hope there aren't too many more poems involving nude dwarfs and shaved yaks.

For more Yak shaving adventures check this out:

The internet is a wonderful place.