Posted on 08/01/2008 6:23:53 AM PDT by Soaring Feather
LOL! What a workout!
Watza good conduct metal???
Wicked clever, ‘Tude! And on a Monday, too!
Needless to ask then, you never got one! LOL
LOL, this is so cute!! ;0)
A magnet.
Yep, some of those dots were in the strangest places. Hope that all is well.
Are you sure you need the tape?
You don’t know how fond of that I am...when I was 12, I helped create, act in, and I designed the costumes for a parody of that poem! A good memory!
I’ve been awol cause I’ve mostly been writing fictions lately.
But speaking of parodies - here’s a little something I wrote after reading something totally atrocious that the author was just so proud of:
To the tune of Home on the Range
I remember the time
I was not filled with the slime
that some folks delight to churn out,
bad lines falling like rain,
till I winch with the pain,
and I forget what is good - o the doubt!
Bleach, bleach for my brain,
to remove all the shadows and pain -
I long to suspend disbelief
and enjoy without grief
where the stories make sense once again.
I get the picture.
The metal attracts all of the free-floating Alpha Rays and that is probably the source of Tom’s voices.
Being a former art student, I was going to draw it.
One other piece. It’s a prose-poem. It’s about 2 people who were separated for 3 years beyond their control, and in fact weren’t sure if they would ever be allowed to be together again.
Petal in the Wind
The leaves shifted and fell, maple scarlet for the third time. He twirled a leaf in clawed fingers, and thought about how she loved the autumn, dancing with leaves in her hair.
“You’re thinking of her, aren’t you?” Kaede asked, watching him from the corner of her eye as she gathered in the last of the fall herbs. “Are you still waiting?”
“Keh,” he replied, as he turned away from the old miko, unwilling to see her look of sympathy.
He watched the children playing in the snow and thought about a snowball she threw once. Making one, he placed it on the lip of the well, and watched how it melted in the late winter sun, so slowly. It reminded him of his heart, his hope.
Sakura time came, and he watched the slow, lonely drift of a petal caught in the wind, drifting, delaying the inevitable, coming at last to rest on the ground, like the cold death of hope. He smashed it into the ground, refusing to believe.
He thought about that petal as young hands tugged his ears, and how his heart was like a snowball. Suddenly a whiff of scent and a touch of aura, and that snowball that trapped his heart melted immediately.
As his arms wrapped around the warm flesh of the one person who mattered most in the world, he knew that delay does not equal never, and he rejoiced.
Hi Knitting, good to hear from you. Glad to hear you’ve been writing fiction.
Ah, happy you received good vibes from the old poem, it is delightful.
I am a total slacker this summer and have written virtually nothing.
Good parody, I know it helped clean the residue from the other’s sludge.
Good one!!! LOL
How I love this piece, so rich with imagery. You take the reader into another world, another time, encompassing thought, feeling, color, sadness, and joy, all in a short span of time.
Wonderful!!
Oh, LadyJag, I do believe you have won today’s WOO HOO!
You may be correct, no tape needed.
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