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This thread was my archive, but after several recommendations I'll be consolidating all of my poetry into a single thread. Below is older stuff that I could fish out from my mail to the village. I'll add new posts to this thread with newer poetry and other poems I dig out from my archives at some point.
Note (added 8/13/2019): It’s probably important to note that while sometimes my poetry is inspired by bugs, snags, disruptions or whatever goes bump in the night, they are always meant for fun and not malice. The game, it’s community, and the Otters have all been excellent sources of inspiration!
December 31
Seize the Day
365 days a year, all to wait for what is finally here,
We hurry each day and rush into another,
Thinking that in tomorrow we shall discover,
Something new, something with meaning,
Something with hope, something worth receiving.
We focus on the future and often forget,
That today is the day, it's all that we get.
Or perhaps you are in each of your days,
Drowning bit by bit as you go on your way,
Focusing on the last three-sixty-four,
Wishing and needing for something much more,
Not realizing what's done is gone and can't be undone,
You can't change your past, it can't be respun.
We focus on yesterday and often forget,
That today is the day, it's all that we get.
So here is to now, this moment, this minute,
Take ownership of today, this instant and win it,
We have today, it's the day that we get,
So make it amazing, one you'll never forget.
December 29 (note, this was inspired by the Pyron key quest stuff, which I've never done, but it was requested by a guild member)
Hello my friend you need a key, or maybe two, or maybe three.
Not nearly enough? Here have this quest, I offer it, not in jest.
Go collect five hundred parts, craft them into works of art,
Set them by a lake in June, underneath a crescent moon,
Then paint them orange. Then red. Then green. Carry them through a maze of beans.
Sing them a lullaby you wrote in greek, then I will give you all the keys you seek.
December 28
Oh The Marvelous Workshop Gizmo, What a curious thing.
I thought it would be a pet or a toy, since it obviously is a spring.
It may have been a slinky, to step down each castle step,
or it could have coiled up in a can, to scare when opened, I suspect.
But it was neither a toy or a springy pet, much to my surprise,
and now I have a sudden urge to craft another hundred pies.
December 24
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all over our town,
Each villager was smiling, not one single frown,
For each went to their garden and found with delight,
A bountiful elf had visited that night,
The peppers were bulging, the melons quite round,
Rhubarb and lavendar, peas stacked high over the ground,
Every sheep could be sheared for five times its weight,
And each chicken produced ten eggs, plus eight,
And if this all sounds too good to be true,
Then believe in your heart that it is my wish for you,
To find bounty, find hope, to dream and aspire,
To find peace, find blessing, and reach ever higher,
To find meaning and happiness on this most special of day,
"A Merry Christmas to you and your family," I say.
December 22
Dragons.
Dragons everywhere.
So many dragons.
They clutter the air.
The green ones.
They flutter.
The blue ones.
They hover.
The brown ones.
They smell.
The red ones.
Breathe fire from hell.
Two weeks ago I had only one I had seen.
Locked in a prison, he is vicious and mean.
Then all of a sudden, so many appear,
A dragon invasion, I cower with fear.
But they seem to be helpful in an odd sort of way,
Carrying people on their backs all day.
Poem Jan 2
https://www.madottergames.com/forums/threads/poem-jan-2.307/
Poem Jan 3
https://www.madottergames.com/forums/threads/poem-jan-3.310/
Note (added 8/13/2019): It’s probably important to note that while sometimes my poetry is inspired by bugs, snags, disruptions or whatever goes bump in the night, they are always meant for fun and not malice. The game, it’s community, and the Otters have all been excellent sources of inspiration!
December 31
Seize the Day
365 days a year, all to wait for what is finally here,
We hurry each day and rush into another,
Thinking that in tomorrow we shall discover,
Something new, something with meaning,
Something with hope, something worth receiving.
We focus on the future and often forget,
That today is the day, it's all that we get.
Or perhaps you are in each of your days,
Drowning bit by bit as you go on your way,
Focusing on the last three-sixty-four,
Wishing and needing for something much more,
Not realizing what's done is gone and can't be undone,
You can't change your past, it can't be respun.
We focus on yesterday and often forget,
That today is the day, it's all that we get.
So here is to now, this moment, this minute,
Take ownership of today, this instant and win it,
We have today, it's the day that we get,
So make it amazing, one you'll never forget.
December 29 (note, this was inspired by the Pyron key quest stuff, which I've never done, but it was requested by a guild member)
Hello my friend you need a key, or maybe two, or maybe three.
Not nearly enough? Here have this quest, I offer it, not in jest.
Go collect five hundred parts, craft them into works of art,
Set them by a lake in June, underneath a crescent moon,
Then paint them orange. Then red. Then green. Carry them through a maze of beans.
Sing them a lullaby you wrote in greek, then I will give you all the keys you seek.
December 28
Oh The Marvelous Workshop Gizmo, What a curious thing.
I thought it would be a pet or a toy, since it obviously is a spring.
It may have been a slinky, to step down each castle step,
or it could have coiled up in a can, to scare when opened, I suspect.
But it was neither a toy or a springy pet, much to my surprise,
and now I have a sudden urge to craft another hundred pies.
December 24
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all over our town,
Each villager was smiling, not one single frown,
For each went to their garden and found with delight,
A bountiful elf had visited that night,
The peppers were bulging, the melons quite round,
Rhubarb and lavendar, peas stacked high over the ground,
Every sheep could be sheared for five times its weight,
And each chicken produced ten eggs, plus eight,
And if this all sounds too good to be true,
Then believe in your heart that it is my wish for you,
To find bounty, find hope, to dream and aspire,
To find peace, find blessing, and reach ever higher,
To find meaning and happiness on this most special of day,
"A Merry Christmas to you and your family," I say.
December 22
Dragons.
Dragons everywhere.
So many dragons.
They clutter the air.
The green ones.
They flutter.
The blue ones.
They hover.
The brown ones.
They smell.
The red ones.
Breathe fire from hell.
Two weeks ago I had only one I had seen.
Locked in a prison, he is vicious and mean.
Then all of a sudden, so many appear,
A dragon invasion, I cower with fear.
But they seem to be helpful in an odd sort of way,
Carrying people on their backs all day.
Poem Jan 2
https://www.madottergames.com/forums/threads/poem-jan-2.307/
Poem Jan 3
https://www.madottergames.com/forums/threads/poem-jan-3.310/
I love your poems! I am glad you were convinced to share them here with us!
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Poem Jan 4
The servers are up! The servers are down...
These network connections were built by a clown!
A clown that came highly recommended,
A Masters from Yale, he's quite decorated.
He studied physics, he studied electrons,
He designs nanos, wrote theories on positrons,
His switches and gateways are from out of this world,
To have him on the team, we should be thrilled!
He'll have it fixed, as quick as a wink!
The servers are up! Wait...that shouldn't blink...
Excuse me? I'm sorry? What's that you're hold'n?
The degree on that paper is from Bob Yale's Emporium?
Those state of the art switches that we were once lovin',
Were 3D printed in an Easy Bake Oven?
I'm livid. I'm angry. I'll stomp and I'll yell,
We need a new vendor...let's ditch AOL.
The servers are up! The servers are down...
These network connections were built by a clown!
A clown that came highly recommended,
A Masters from Yale, he's quite decorated.
He studied physics, he studied electrons,
He designs nanos, wrote theories on positrons,
His switches and gateways are from out of this world,
To have him on the team, we should be thrilled!
He'll have it fixed, as quick as a wink!
The servers are up! Wait...that shouldn't blink...
Excuse me? I'm sorry? What's that you're hold'n?
The degree on that paper is from Bob Yale's Emporium?
Those state of the art switches that we were once lovin',
Were 3D printed in an Easy Bake Oven?
I'm livid. I'm angry. I'll stomp and I'll yell,
We need a new vendor...let's ditch AOL.
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Today's poem was partially inspired by today's Discord chat with the Otters. The last time I remember a game with this much direct developer involvement was probably Everquest, but even then I doubt we would have had someone from Verant giving us a minute by minute play by play of what was going on!
While we were all in Discord I attempted some shorter poems to pass the time:
Server Outages - Our Hero's Perspective
Our hero ventured into the dark, trees towered overhead.
When suddenly from the left, a noise foreboding dread,
and at the ready, sword in hand our hero raised a blow...
Then all went dark for quite a while, what happened? We don't know!
When we return to the scene our hero has left the wood,
back the entrance, to try once more, to vanquish evil for the good.
Past the trees he tries again, sword in his hand held steady,
he charges forward with battle cry...at least this time he is ready!
A slaw, a parry, one stab, then two, he is sure to win!
When suddenly it all goes dark...I guess he'll try again?
An Otter's Request (context - a poem about fixes that don't work)
A splash of paint, a bit of string,
that hole of yours, I've got just the thing.
We'll fix it with some bailing wire,
A bit of gum, my car's spare tire.
Yes I know, that hole is big,
But I've seen bigger, just need a jig,
A piece of tape, my grandma's spoon,
That old French Horn? It lost it's tune.
We'll have your hole fixed up real quick,
I just need more things to do the trick.
Eagle1's Request (context - write a poem about Star Trek, The Next Generation. This one has minor edits from the original in Discord.)
Commander Riker to the bridge!
We need to move the ship a smidge,
But LaForge, it seems, has lost the core,
So grab Worf and Data for a small chore,
I need you all to go outside, and give us a push, a tow, a ride,
Just make it so, I don't care how.
Computer! I need my tea, Earl Grey. Now!
While we were all in Discord I attempted some shorter poems to pass the time:
Server Outages - Our Hero's Perspective
Our hero ventured into the dark, trees towered overhead.
When suddenly from the left, a noise foreboding dread,
and at the ready, sword in hand our hero raised a blow...
Then all went dark for quite a while, what happened? We don't know!
When we return to the scene our hero has left the wood,
back the entrance, to try once more, to vanquish evil for the good.
Past the trees he tries again, sword in his hand held steady,
he charges forward with battle cry...at least this time he is ready!
A slaw, a parry, one stab, then two, he is sure to win!
When suddenly it all goes dark...I guess he'll try again?
An Otter's Request (context - a poem about fixes that don't work)
A splash of paint, a bit of string,
that hole of yours, I've got just the thing.
We'll fix it with some bailing wire,
A bit of gum, my car's spare tire.
Yes I know, that hole is big,
But I've seen bigger, just need a jig,
A piece of tape, my grandma's spoon,
That old French Horn? It lost it's tune.
We'll have your hole fixed up real quick,
I just need more things to do the trick.
Eagle1's Request (context - write a poem about Star Trek, The Next Generation. This one has minor edits from the original in Discord.)
Commander Riker to the bridge!
We need to move the ship a smidge,
But LaForge, it seems, has lost the core,
So grab Worf and Data for a small chore,
I need you all to go outside, and give us a push, a tow, a ride,
Just make it so, I don't care how.
Computer! I need my tea, Earl Grey. Now!
Poem Jan 5
It's hard each and every night,
To think of something new,
Something that will surely delight,
A poem that speaks to you,
So my humble request, if I may,
To ask for you to share,
Ideas from your own time of play,
And post them as a dare,
I'll take your challenge, give it a try,
But there is a rule,
I need game context - like rhubarb pie,
Before I'll start my wordplay duel.
So pick a place, a theme, a quest,
A noun, a verb, a thing,
And send them my - be my guest,
And it's your poetry that I'll bring.
It's hard each and every night,
To think of something new,
Something that will surely delight,
A poem that speaks to you,
So my humble request, if I may,
To ask for you to share,
Ideas from your own time of play,
And post them as a dare,
I'll take your challenge, give it a try,
But there is a rule,
I need game context - like rhubarb pie,
Before I'll start my wordplay duel.
So pick a place, a theme, a quest,
A noun, a verb, a thing,
And send them my - be my guest,
And it's your poetry that I'll bring.
Poem Jan 6
I don't know what to write tonight,
The words, they just aren't there.
I'll type these words with all my might,
While sitting in my chair.
I wrote four poems in local,
While at an awesome dance,
But I feel like a jolly yokel,
For they disappeared in a quick glance.
Off the screen they rushed away,
Before I knew it they had poofed,
I really had thought they'd stay,
I admit...I've done goofed.
I don't know what to write tonight,
The words, they just aren't there.
I'll type these words with all my might,
While sitting in my chair.
I wrote four poems in local,
While at an awesome dance,
But I feel like a jolly yokel,
For they disappeared in a quick glance.
Off the screen they rushed away,
Before I knew it they had poofed,
I really had thought they'd stay,
I admit...I've done goofed.
Poem Jan 7
Special thanks to Ayiani who encouraged me to capture my moment of sleeplessness in a poem.
"It's a bunk bed party!" my children declared, loudly at 3 AM.
With all their animals, blankets and lights, they became mayhem.
From the top bunk they danced and jumped, the floors and walls had shakes,
The whole house woke to the noise, created by two precious snowflakes.
It's almost endearing, it's almost cute, I'm sure I'll laugh someday,
But for tonight and for tomorrow I want for sleep, for this I hope and pray.
Special thanks to Ayiani who encouraged me to capture my moment of sleeplessness in a poem.
"It's a bunk bed party!" my children declared, loudly at 3 AM.
With all their animals, blankets and lights, they became mayhem.
From the top bunk they danced and jumped, the floors and walls had shakes,
The whole house woke to the noise, created by two precious snowflakes.
It's almost endearing, it's almost cute, I'm sure I'll laugh someday,
But for tonight and for tomorrow I want for sleep, for this I hope and pray.
Poem Jan 8
I admit it. I don't really care for donuts. I don't have much of a sweet tooth, so the layers of cream and icing and puffy textures loaded with more sugar just aren't my thing. But I was asked to write a poem about donuts. Are there even donuts in the game? I've never seen one. Then again, I haven't seen the invisible kittens everyone on US3 is always looking for either. Sarah & Damon - if you're reading this, we need pet kittens. Asking for a friend. Anyway, here's a poem about donuts.
I'm harvesting papayas. I'm harvesting plums.
I'd like to bake pie - I think that would be yum!
But instead I'm baking something new,
Something available in the next game version or two?
Pumpkin-papaya-plum filled donuts,
When you eat it, it's a bomb to your guts,
I'll bake each donut as big as your head,
If you eat it in a single bite, you'll probably be dead,
Each donut is worth nineteen-thousand XP,
At least before dram bonuses times three,
It doesn't need motes, it doesn't need buffs,
A single donut is simply enough,
Placed in a server rack I'm sure it would power,
Our server uptime for at least a full hour! (Sorry Otters!)
And though I think they're a bit obsessed,
I know some royalty that are thoroughly impressed,
By donuts of every shape and size,
Those that are plain, those with a jelly surprise,
Those that are drenched six layers deep,
With icing, and frosting, and sprinkles by heaps,
They're the king and queen of the donut brigade,
And if they had it their way they'd eat each donut that's made.
I admit it. I don't really care for donuts. I don't have much of a sweet tooth, so the layers of cream and icing and puffy textures loaded with more sugar just aren't my thing. But I was asked to write a poem about donuts. Are there even donuts in the game? I've never seen one. Then again, I haven't seen the invisible kittens everyone on US3 is always looking for either. Sarah & Damon - if you're reading this, we need pet kittens. Asking for a friend. Anyway, here's a poem about donuts.
I'm harvesting papayas. I'm harvesting plums.
I'd like to bake pie - I think that would be yum!
But instead I'm baking something new,
Something available in the next game version or two?
Pumpkin-papaya-plum filled donuts,
When you eat it, it's a bomb to your guts,
I'll bake each donut as big as your head,
If you eat it in a single bite, you'll probably be dead,
Each donut is worth nineteen-thousand XP,
At least before dram bonuses times three,
It doesn't need motes, it doesn't need buffs,
A single donut is simply enough,
Placed in a server rack I'm sure it would power,
Our server uptime for at least a full hour! (Sorry Otters!)
And though I think they're a bit obsessed,
I know some royalty that are thoroughly impressed,
By donuts of every shape and size,
Those that are plain, those with a jelly surprise,
Those that are drenched six layers deep,
With icing, and frosting, and sprinkles by heaps,
They're the king and queen of the donut brigade,
And if they had it their way they'd eat each donut that's made.
Poem Jan 9
It's a skip day, I just want to play.
No poem, too tired. I'm utterly uninspired.
Come back tomorrow, I'll try again then.
Or maybe Friday I'll get out my pen.
I'm sorry that you'll have to wait,
but I hear that patience is your greatest trait.
It's a skip day, I just want to play.
No poem, too tired. I'm utterly uninspired.
Come back tomorrow, I'll try again then.
Or maybe Friday I'll get out my pen.
I'm sorry that you'll have to wait,
but I hear that patience is your greatest trait.
So despite the statement in the January 9 poem, it's been a few days since I wrote a new poem for my guild - but that doesn't mean I've been ignoring my poetry! On Friday, William hosted a poetry night on US3. It was awesome - with a huge turn out. I told a couple of poems that night, but I'm not used to how fast chat disappears when playing on the PC version of the game. I didn't save any of them. If anyone was there that night and got some screen shots (or maybe even video!) I'd love to see them posted.
I'll try to post a new poem today. I'll be back soon!
I'll try to post a new poem today. I'll be back soon!
Poem Jan 13
Once again it's time to run,
Through Summers Hollow for some fun!
I took some time to explore the beach,
Swimming as far as I could reach,
I slew some bog frogs and some sprites,
Before selecting rebirth for a final goodnight,
I said goodbye to forty-five,
And found myself newly alive,
It's time for the lower elders once more,
It's time to kill an Albino Boar,
It's time to climb Forever's Ascent,
And it's time to find a Miscreant.
I enjoy this reboot as I reflect,
On a new approach as I perfect,
My character as she grows stronger,
And enjoy this game one day longer.
Once again it's time to run,
Through Summers Hollow for some fun!
I took some time to explore the beach,
Swimming as far as I could reach,
I slew some bog frogs and some sprites,
Before selecting rebirth for a final goodnight,
I said goodbye to forty-five,
And found myself newly alive,
It's time for the lower elders once more,
It's time to kill an Albino Boar,
It's time to climb Forever's Ascent,
And it's time to find a Miscreant.
I enjoy this reboot as I reflect,
On a new approach as I perfect,
My character as she grows stronger,
And enjoy this game one day longer.
Poem Jan 14
I know I saw this in a movie once,
An endless winter for many months,
Or I read it in a book,
With a dull and bleak outlook,
Where it was never Christmas and there was never any joy,
And there never was a Santa Claus around to deliver any toys.
Somehow I'm experiencing this, and yet not quite the same,
An endless amount of Christmas, never ending in the game,
Where there are always presents under each and every tree,
And every single elf has forced smiles and eyes frozen in horrid glee,
Somehow it's gone on and on and on and on and on and on and on some more,
The hunting of Jingle, and Krampus, and Sugar Plum...and Missile Toe, and Grinchta has now become a chore.
>>But That's OK!!!<<
I am glad for one more day,
For from Oake and Maple I shall pry,
That one last outfit that caught my eye!
I know I saw this in a movie once,
An endless winter for many months,
Or I read it in a book,
With a dull and bleak outlook,
Where it was never Christmas and there was never any joy,
And there never was a Santa Claus around to deliver any toys.
Somehow I'm experiencing this, and yet not quite the same,
An endless amount of Christmas, never ending in the game,
Where there are always presents under each and every tree,
And every single elf has forced smiles and eyes frozen in horrid glee,
Somehow it's gone on and on and on and on and on and on and on some more,
The hunting of Jingle, and Krampus, and Sugar Plum...and Missile Toe, and Grinchta has now become a chore.
>>But That's OK!!!<<
I am glad for one more day,
For from Oake and Maple I shall pry,
That one last outfit that caught my eye!
Poem Jan 15
How many times must it be said?
So many in world chat want Wrinkles dead.
Minute by minute and hour by hour,
Nobody likes him - No wonder he glowers!
It's easy to see that he'd misconstrue,
A visit for tea as a ruse to get glue,
Or that a kind, "How is your day?"
Could quickly devolve to a full on melee.
It seems quite likely that he'll always reject,
My offer of friendship that I try to project!
How many times must it be said?
So many in world chat want Wrinkles dead.
Minute by minute and hour by hour,
Nobody likes him - No wonder he glowers!
It's easy to see that he'd misconstrue,
A visit for tea as a ruse to get glue,
Or that a kind, "How is your day?"
Could quickly devolve to a full on melee.
It seems quite likely that he'll always reject,
My offer of friendship that I try to project!
I had to take a short business trip so it's been a few days since I've had a chance to write a poem.
Poem Jan 19
Swing and crack, swing and crack,
Give the vein another thwack,
Something glitters, I see it shine,
I'll clean it up and then refine,
This bit of rock once buried deep,
Has a destiny that I must keep,
To fashion into something great,
Someday it may change one's fate,
A sword that's crafted for war and peace,
Wielded by one with expertise,
A shield uplifted to deflect,
A breastplate worn to protect,
I place this bit inside my sack,
Then start again...swing and crack...
Poem Jan 19
Swing and crack, swing and crack,
Give the vein another thwack,
Something glitters, I see it shine,
I'll clean it up and then refine,
This bit of rock once buried deep,
Has a destiny that I must keep,
To fashion into something great,
Someday it may change one's fate,
A sword that's crafted for war and peace,
Wielded by one with expertise,
A shield uplifted to deflect,
A breastplate worn to protect,
I place this bit inside my sack,
Then start again...swing and crack...
Poem Jan 20
We have a kitten, fluffy, gray,
Who had a little scare today,
She had a cough, she wasn't well,
What was wrong, we couldn't tell,
We ran her to a healer's hut,
Who gave poor kitty a small cut,
Which helped dear kitten find her breath,
And brought her back from brink of death,
And now she once again does run,
She jumps and plays and has fun,
And though it will be a few more days,
Before we can fully appraise,
How she is and how she'll be,
We're glad to have still our kitty.
We have a kitten, fluffy, gray,
Who had a little scare today,
She had a cough, she wasn't well,
What was wrong, we couldn't tell,
We ran her to a healer's hut,
Who gave poor kitty a small cut,
Which helped dear kitten find her breath,
And brought her back from brink of death,
And now she once again does run,
She jumps and plays and has fun,
And though it will be a few more days,
Before we can fully appraise,
How she is and how she'll be,
We're glad to have still our kitty.
Poem Jan 21
I ate a pumpkin with all the rind,
Oops, wrong chat, please be kind!
Then the moose got in the bath,
Wrong chat again, please do not laugh!
They spilled the mustard up and down the shore,
Ugh! Wrong chat. Please ignore!
It's a wrong chat bake-off,
Where context is the tradeoff,
No need to wonder, there's nothing to glean,
You'll have no idea what they could mean!
The monkey and the lion started a band,
This wrong chat stuff is out of hand!
My pants split right down the middle,
Is this world chat? Or some kind of riddle?
I paired anchovies with whipped cream,
Wrong chat again, at least I'm mainstream!
It's a wrong chat bake-off,
Where context is the tradeoff,
No need to wonder, it will never make sense,
Just say something strange with no consequence!
I ate a pumpkin with all the rind,
Oops, wrong chat, please be kind!
Then the moose got in the bath,
Wrong chat again, please do not laugh!
They spilled the mustard up and down the shore,
Ugh! Wrong chat. Please ignore!
It's a wrong chat bake-off,
Where context is the tradeoff,
No need to wonder, there's nothing to glean,
You'll have no idea what they could mean!
The monkey and the lion started a band,
This wrong chat stuff is out of hand!
My pants split right down the middle,
Is this world chat? Or some kind of riddle?
I paired anchovies with whipped cream,
Wrong chat again, at least I'm mainstream!
It's a wrong chat bake-off,
Where context is the tradeoff,
No need to wonder, it will never make sense,
Just say something strange with no consequence!
I've been to the Swamp of Grogul (how do you pronounce that? Growgoal? Growghoul? Groggle?) several times now and I love that zone. It's like flyover country - the zone that you never have to visit and by the time you remember it's there everything is gray and kind of anti-climactic. But there is so much potential there! What if there were different main quests and you got a random one each time you rebirthed? Sure, you could start with the Malicious Miscreant quest the first time, but maybe the second time you dealt with a different threat to the world - the great bug calamity! I suppose that's a bit like world of warcraft, but I'm sure we could come up with something entirely original. Anyway, back to my point. There is so much potential there. Do you remember the first time you went to the castle prison and you discovered that hall that lead to a dragon? That's what the Swamps needs - you're wading through muck, bug bounties everywhere, and there's that one master bug that's impossible to kill without bringing you're entire friend's list with you. Maybe event driven - you kill all the brood broodmothers on the summit and it spawns and starts a zone-wide rampage! Anyway, I'm ranting...onto the poem.
Poem Jan 22
Were you aware that in the Swamps of Grogul,
Slithering and skittering in that hellhole,
Where you must wade through heat and slime,
Are millions of bugs biding their time.
Some are small, but most are quite big,
With pincers and spikes that could skewer a pig,
They are breeding...and waiting...and patiently watching,
And one day quite soon soon they'll be advancing,
A swarm, an onslaught, a cresting tidal-crush,
Of cracking...and hissing..it drowns out the hush,
Of a world unprepared for six-legged vermin,
That enter your home bringing wanton destruction.
But continue your day! Ignore this new threat,
After all, its far away, unseen, unheard...not here yet,
You'll be safe in your bed, you'll be safe in your villa,
I'm sure my tale is quite mad - is that an antennae?
Poem Jan 22
Were you aware that in the Swamps of Grogul,
Slithering and skittering in that hellhole,
Where you must wade through heat and slime,
Are millions of bugs biding their time.
Some are small, but most are quite big,
With pincers and spikes that could skewer a pig,
They are breeding...and waiting...and patiently watching,
And one day quite soon soon they'll be advancing,
A swarm, an onslaught, a cresting tidal-crush,
Of cracking...and hissing..it drowns out the hush,
Of a world unprepared for six-legged vermin,
That enter your home bringing wanton destruction.
But continue your day! Ignore this new threat,
After all, its far away, unseen, unheard...not here yet,
You'll be safe in your bed, you'll be safe in your villa,
I'm sure my tale is quite mad - is that an antennae?
Work got very busy. I had to travel and the timezones affected me more than I expected. As a result, it's been quite a while since I've written a poem here or in game. I'll try to write a few before I leave on another trip. Hopefully I'll be able to write while I'm traveling this next time, but I can't make any promises.
I wasn't online much today, but word reached me that the guild got a bit punny. Marygold was overheard saying that I should write a terrible poem with puns. It doesn't get much worse than this.
Poem Feb 3
I found a Needler in a haystack,
One day out by the pond,
A swarm of bees were on the attack,
Wielding zingers by a frond,
"To bee or not to bee,
I've always wondered why?"
I decided to stick around to see,
If their jokes would make me cry.
A warg sat on a mossy patch,
He asked, "How do you find the fleas?"
"I believe you start from scratch,
But why don't you ask the bees?"
But they were now distracted,
Spelling words out in the dirt,
"Buzz off!" they reacted,
Ugh...these puns they really hurt.
I wasn't online much today, but word reached me that the guild got a bit punny. Marygold was overheard saying that I should write a terrible poem with puns. It doesn't get much worse than this.
Poem Feb 3
I found a Needler in a haystack,
One day out by the pond,
A swarm of bees were on the attack,
Wielding zingers by a frond,
"To bee or not to bee,
I've always wondered why?"
I decided to stick around to see,
If their jokes would make me cry.
A warg sat on a mossy patch,
He asked, "How do you find the fleas?"
"I believe you start from scratch,
But why don't you ask the bees?"
But they were now distracted,
Spelling words out in the dirt,
"Buzz off!" they reacted,
Ugh...these puns they really hurt.
My wife complained to me the other day that people kept moving out of the house next to her home in the village. I wrote this for her.
Poem Feb 4
The house next door is empty, the lot, it is for sale,
My neighbors think I'm crazy, so they packed up wall and nail.
I really didn't mean to nag and scare them all away,
But they forgot to water their blueberries on a sunny day,
And their sheep looked sad and quite forlorn so I wandered to their yard,
To feed their critters apples, sweet, delicious, crunchy and quite hard.
Is it really all that creepy that I want to be their friend?
I sit outside their door all day asking if they will tend,
To their garden just a bit it's looking rather dull,
They haven't picked the blueberries, I'm not sure - what is their goal?
They have a home they don't upkeep,
And they never visit or even sleep,
So I'll tend to mine and wait some more,
Just several steps outside their door...
Poem Feb 4
The house next door is empty, the lot, it is for sale,
My neighbors think I'm crazy, so they packed up wall and nail.
I really didn't mean to nag and scare them all away,
But they forgot to water their blueberries on a sunny day,
And their sheep looked sad and quite forlorn so I wandered to their yard,
To feed their critters apples, sweet, delicious, crunchy and quite hard.
Is it really all that creepy that I want to be their friend?
I sit outside their door all day asking if they will tend,
To their garden just a bit it's looking rather dull,
They haven't picked the blueberries, I'm not sure - what is their goal?
They have a home they don't upkeep,
And they never visit or even sleep,
So I'll tend to mine and wait some more,
Just several steps outside their door...
Bonus Poem, Feb 4
Context - these are characters specific to US3. Apologies if that makes it less enjoyable.
"Grinchta's up!" Cloud Nine shouts, for everyone to hear,
Willow Way just shriveled up, her thumbs firmly planted in her ears,
Mohawk grumbled, and slowly put, one foot in front of another,
To head on over to the lair, he quietly huffed, "Oh brother..."
One by one we each fell in, one by one we walked,
As if on command, one we must obey, all in a state of shock,
"I thought he left!" I heard one cry, but still he fell into line,
Our souls were crushed, on auto-pilot, there was no deny'n.
"April fools!" Cloud Nine laughed, thinking it was a funny joke,
We all lined up, surrounding him, and promptly thumped that bloke!
Context - these are characters specific to US3. Apologies if that makes it less enjoyable.
"Grinchta's up!" Cloud Nine shouts, for everyone to hear,
Willow Way just shriveled up, her thumbs firmly planted in her ears,
Mohawk grumbled, and slowly put, one foot in front of another,
To head on over to the lair, he quietly huffed, "Oh brother..."
One by one we each fell in, one by one we walked,
As if on command, one we must obey, all in a state of shock,
"I thought he left!" I heard one cry, but still he fell into line,
Our souls were crushed, on auto-pilot, there was no deny'n.
"April fools!" Cloud Nine laughed, thinking it was a funny joke,
We all lined up, surrounding him, and promptly thumped that bloke!