The Rosie Lies Of 26th April 2007, 02:08 Pm Allowed On Cf, not all forums are created equal Options

[LaurenceD]

Oh lonely sister, keep the lovely oranges then
And the lovely state in which they dwell
And leave the apples to us northern fellers
And the juicy nonsense from each one that fell

It's been my far-reaching pleasure to expose
Every carefully crafted method at play here
But I'm overtired of picking and the rumbling of the drum
Oranges disappearing as apples as Peaches reappear

[PeacefulBe]

Oh lonely sister, keep the lovely oranges then
And the lovely state in which they dwell
And leave the apples to us northern fellers
And the juicy nonsense from each one that fell

It's been my far-reaching pleasure to expose
Every carefully crafted method at play here
But I'm overtired of picking and the rumbling of the drum
Oranges disappearing as apples as Peaches reappear

Deep, through the heart these words of yours do pierce me.
Who thought that you would be such easy prey,
To fall to my ad hominem adventure?
You, who are wise and clever in your way.

And yet, I also find your verse compelling.
With just a bit of work t'would be, ere long
A ballad that might bless this forum's pages
And become an angst-filled Northern Fella's Song.

So hoard those juicy apples close beside you,
I'll keep my oranges and persimmons, too.
But just remember, when the days are rainy,
There's still yet southern sunshine left for you.

[meadbd]

Deep, through the heart these words of yours do pierce me.
Who thought that you would be such easy prey,
To fall to my ad hominem adventure?
You, who are wise and clever in your way.

And yet, I also find your verse compelling.
With just a bit of work t'would be, ere long
A ballad that might bless this forum's pages
And become an angst-filled Northern Fella's Song.

So hoard those juicy apples close beside you,
I'll keep my oranges and persimmons, too.
But just remember, when the days are rainy,
There's still yet southern sunshine left for you.

===========================================
I never saw a purple cow
I never hope to see one
But I can tell you here and now
I'd rather see than be one.
(Burma Shave)

[beartrap]

Of oranges and apples, in days of old
their stories of wonder, the bards have told.
"How now, for a screwdriver, or cider?" they say,
but for oranges and apples we wait through the day.
The labourors labor as labourors do
for a cup of juice and a bowl of stew.
"Make use of oranges and apples" they say,
to destroy your opponent with fruits that sway
on trees in the north that thrive in the snow
and trees in the south where retirees go.
Of LaurenceD in the appletree,
and PeacefulBe with her orange dundee,
we ponder your muses and thirst sets in,
to be quenched by the fruits that started this din.

[PeacefulBe]

Of oranges and apples, in days of old
their stories of wonder, the bards have told.
"How now, for a screwdriver, or cider?" they say,
but for oranges and apples we wait through the day.
The labourors labor as labourors do
for a cup of juice and a bowl of stew.
"Make use of oranges and apples" they say,
to destroy your opponent with fruits that sway
on trees in the north that thrive in the snow
and trees in the south where retirees go.
Of LaurenceD in the appletree,
and PeacefulBe with her orange dundee,
we ponder your muses and thirst sets in,
to be quenched by the fruits that started this din.

A flash of metal through the sky, a stein of sorts goes streaking by
A whistle on it's handle shrilly blowing.
The scientists who dare poo-poo the object that above us flew
Declare their methods keen, far past our knowing.

And so we set about to prove their theorems faulty, with each move,
Each word must now with utmost care be crafted.
For when that UFO doth land itself within our waiting hand
'Tis then that first we sip and froth fresh draughted

Will slide across each palate new, exposing just which type of brew
Within said vessel full of flavor bursting.
And one shall vindicated be, to find if orchard, grove or tree
Has spawned the ale that ever quenches thirsting.

So flourish now your mighty swords, and bravely fight this war of words
For much is now at stake and all must rise,
To join the ranks of northern man, or stand beside this southern gran
Tis up to you to choose who wins the prize.

[Shepherdswife]

A flash of metal through the sky, a stein of sorts goes streaking by
A whistle on it's handle shrilly blowing.
The scientists who dare poo-poo the object that above us flew
Declare their methods keen, far past our knowing.

And so we set about to prove their theorems faulty, with each move,
Each word must now with utmost care be crafted.
For when that UFO doth land itself within our waiting hand
'Tis then that first we sip and froth fresh draughted

Will slide across each palate new, exposing just which type of brew
Within said vessel full of flavor bursting.
And one shall vindicated be, to find if orchard, grove or tree
Has spawned the ale that ever quenches thirsting.

So flourish now your mighty swords, and bravely fight this war of words
For much is now at stake and all must rise,
To join the ranks of northern man, or stand beside this southern gran
Tis up to you to choose who wins the prize.

Huh?
Did someone hit the poetry button? Toto, I don't think we are in Kansas anymore!

[Skyhook]

Huh?
Did someone hit the poetry button? Toto, I don't think we are in Kansas anymore!

I don't know, but I'm sure impressed.
Calvin, you better copyright this thread, just in case.

[beartrap]

"How now, brown cow?" Sing the dish and the spoon,
as they dance to the beat of the man on the moon.
The silly cat fiddles and speaks in riddles
as the city burns down in flames from the kettles.
The drums of war cry out for more
from their thrones in the sky and shelves in the store.
The walls have ears for the one who hears
but the lips are closed and the eyes full of tears.

"How now, brown cow?" Sing the dish and the spoon,
as they dance on the face of the man on the moon.
Enthroned in the sky they thought we'd go by,
like the fools on a string who believed in the lie.
The cat still fiddles on the second string
and the fires burn on while the little dogs sing.
The walls have ears for the one who hears
but the lips are closed and the eyes full of tears.

This post has been edited by beartrap: Sep 16 2007, 01:13 AM

[LaurenceD]

So flourish now your mighty swords, and bravely fight this war of words
For much is now at stake and all must rise,
To join the ranks of northern man, or stand beside this southern gran
Tis up to you to choose who wins the prize.

My mind knows no greater hope
Than playing Cardinal to Pope

Your thoughts so warm and stellar
Mine--like any northern feller

Yours run fluid like a fountainhead
Mine frozen best left unsaid

Yours all caught up in beartrap's din
Mine stuck in this thawing wind

[PeacefulBe]

My mind knows no greater hope
Than playing Cardinal to Pope

Your thoughts so warm and stellar
Mine--like any northern feller

Yours run fluid like a fountainhead
Mine frozen best left unsaid

Yours all caught up in beartrap's din
Mine stuck in this thawing wind

Nay, LaurenceD, your northern sage
must never stay unspoken.
For if you choose to leave this fray
Would purpose, hope be broken.

Now you and beartrap, youthful, strong,
And lofty in your funnery
Will thrive within cathedrals great
While I bask in my nunnery.

So if we three our produce blend
No foe will ever stand
Or have the chance to fool the world,
With all our fruit in hand.

You play the pipes, beartrap the keys
And me? I'll hum the tune.
And when we've taught the world our song,
Earn a smile from the man in the moon

[Rosyroi]

This Rosy's buds wax poetic long and creatively
but
Rosy is no poet sad to say,

just a story teller long and boring

[caribbean sda]

Y'all funny with all this poetry. Have no fear, I will make no attempt.

[PeacefulBe]

Huh?
Did someone hit the poetry button? Toto, I don't think we are in Kansas anymore!

What happened here among these threads you query?
When prose was found replaced by verse instead.
T'was not of prose than anyone was weary
But honor paid to those of old, long dead.

For how would they, of centuries past, pursue
Discussion, were it digitzed this way?
Now all have had a glimpse what he might do,
Had Shakespeare had this forum in his day.

But now, e're Calvin and his court grow anxious,
And valiant knights are charged upon a quest,
To seek to vanquish verse they find most tedious,
We'll lower quills and put the rhymes to rest

So, finished we, lest beckoned by refrain,
Of "Let us do the Timeth Warp again".

[caribbean sda]

lol...this is so cool.
ok...back on topic...

[beartrap]

Well heck! I have enjoyed this brief foray into poetry. Is there a poetry thread somewhere?