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