Ode on a duncan s

Rainy 'n cold. Hiding under insufficient covers ins insufficient covers
Insufficience hardly suffices
As excuse for duplicate duplication
Double double-tap
Disconnector failure.

Lovely idea for a thread! Do you accept gold stars?

*****

(What does the end of the world mean???)
Why here???
Why NOW???
I just became accustomed
to the swells
and the storms
and the whispers
and the bed-blanketed warmth.
I will not let it go
(not yet)
until I am told
what this means.

She asks, "Do you accept gold stars?"
He ponders this, for minutes brief;
Reconciles himself to his decision;
Sighs.
"Why not? My horse has won blue ribbons."

My horse has won blue ribbons
Red balloons
Green pompoms
And a purple bow.
It's hard to get it all to stick.
Vole fur is short and slick.

O Vole-atile Beast!

Ha! Ribbons and baubles are worn with derision
By the beast that moves of its own vole-lition,
Too proud to be harnessed to any man's mission!
It says. Then mere seedy promise conquers suspicion.

This message has been edited. Last edited by: His Noodle Girl,

Oh, Babylon, that's priceless!

Bu is a good object of serenade, huh?

Oh, Priceless Babylon

Is there any Pokemon
as priceless as our Babylon?
The Llama under Pi-katchu
The fu-Manchu of Great to-do
A price cannot be put upon
The rhyming of the Babylon.

*blushes*

a price cannot be put upon
the calf, the lamb, the speckled fawn
who suckles at its mothers breast
content enough for all the rest.

Content enough for all the rest
of so few hours sleepin'
I laughed and drank, and *** with zest
And early the alarm-din
I should be sleeping in my nest
Instead of cooking pumpkin
I hope tonight, at sleeps behest
He doesn't put his ....
*ahem*

I hope tonight, at sleeps behest,
that this night I dream,
and dream only the best --
and let out the shrill scream
inside my cackling chest,
wanting out like a joyful Death-Star beam.

and let out the shrill scream!
and raze the roof!
and banish the shadows to a moonbeam - *POOF*
your voice has the power to keep monsters away
your song beams a light as bright as day

I could go to a T-Mobile hotspot
I could make my way to dancing lessons
I could do several things to initiate dynamic, whirling chaos
Think I'll just go have a quiet drink.

Drop the Puck already!
Ditch the ass's head.
My name is Robin Goodfellow.
Call me that in bed.

Your(e) Peculiar. (arisocratic title) [stolen from Silver]
Your(e) strange, [does Silver miss it?]
Titles are nothing, trust is all
My (Flaming Heart) gules
Sarcelle. [Sanglant]
Yet (we) were once (Complexed) [how can it have been?]
Aspectant. Respectant.
Only now [counter-passant]
And all your(e) promises were False.

Whatever it is that's sitting in that Comfy Chair, it's smokin'!

Why all the gold stars?

It is a little known fact
that stars come not from the heavens
but instead from the Brightly Shining Sea.
It's the glint of sunlight
on warm wavelets skimming over
underwater things.
And when the right wavelet
skims over the
right underwater thing,
there is a spark
come from spirit meeting vision
and so a star is born.
And born they are
across the Brightly Shining Sea
to the shore of the Dreaming.

There's a missing comic panel
at the bottom of a wastepaper basket
that shows a tall pale man
with coal black eyes
handing a bag of stars to Barbie
before she departed his realm.
She carried this bag of stars
from Dreaming to Waking
and waited
waited
waited
until the new custodians appeared.

The story is told that
on the night of the anointing
if one were to watch closely
they would spy a little girl
with blonde curls
jumping down a chimney
(it's a popular entrance)
and carefully depositing
a small bag of stars
next to the sleeper's head.

When the sleeper awakens
and journeys from the shores of the Dreaming
into Waking
it is this bag of stars
that sustains them
through the long journey ahead.

From time to time
the Wakers see something
that captures the memory
of spirit meeting vision
and it pleases them.
They reach into their star-bag
and affix one (or many)
to the one whose
hand wrought the thing.
(Sometimes they take the stars back
when they are cranky
or haven't had their naps,
but they usually return them.)

In all of recorded history
it's only happened once
where a star-bag has run out.
On that day
the Waker carefully folded the bag
(with his toes)
and slipped it back under his pillow.
In the morning
he found a slightly hairy unblinking eyeball in its place--
a ward, to watch over him.
He took the eyeball and
turned the page
and begun a new adventure.

This is all True.

And so it happened one day
that a Waker woke up
and saw two of her stars
trudging back up her path.

This had never happened before.
This was something new, unwrit.
Not in the manual.

And the stars told her
they'd had a bad day at school,
and they'd been disparaged
by some girls and boys
and they'd really rather go back
into the bag, please.

And the Waker blinked.
And the stars solemnly blinked back.

So the Waker carried the stars indoors
to the kitchen sink
where she gently washed them
in hot water
(because hot water fixes everything)
with soap that smelled of green apples.
The stars stretched mightily
and luxuriated in the warm water
and glinted up at the Waker.
She dried them off
and put them back into the star-bag
and drew the drawstring tight.

And as the stars fell asleep,
the Waker was certain
she smelled the sea.

Ah. So that's what happened.

Asiago, vigilant;
Gouda, guarding;
Emmenthaler at the Hot Gates.
Cheese never sleeps. It's ALWAYS watching.