*lurk lurk*
*looks around, noone notices*
*lurk lurk*
Hi there!
*noone appears to be around, I find weeping
willow to sit under, begin talking to it*
Here's a poem I wrote called Mists Of Time
(Mists Of Memory)...
Dragon's rhymes, forgotten times
in the land of make believe.
Mystic mines, enchanted pines,
I might just never leave.
Siren's sighs, sweet little lies
but I just cannot bother.
Gossamer wings, a pixie sings
& I long for no other.
Playing a lyre by the Phoenix' fire,
noting is a it seemed.
Dragon's rhymes, forgotten times...
youth cannot be redeemed.
*weeping willow breaks down in a fit of tears &
knocks me off my bench onto mossy ground*
Fine, I won't read to YOU anymore!
*lurk lurk*
*looks around, noone notices*
*lurk lurk*
HA... that's what YOU think!!! we have our ways. 8^)