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Lady Fellshot
Senior Scribe
USA
379 Posts |
 Posted - 20 Nov 2009 : 03:50:36
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After lurking and quietly mourning the shift in the canon Realms to something I'm not interested in, I happened upon two people who probably should have known better engaging in a very mild "4e Realms is/isn't crap" exchange.
I'm not sure what happened, but I found myself with the urge to write poetry about it. So read on if you can stand some somewhat bad poetry, with thanks to the Sage for making sure it wasn't that bad.
--)--------
A New Garden
There was a stronghold by the sea
The scribes that lived there felt free,
To discuss the meaning
Of the scrolls they were cleaning
And the books that were protected a-lee.
While walking along in the winter,
A few of the scribes came together
And said “We'd be pleased
To grow a few greens
In the courtyard's sunny warm summer.”
The sages most venerable conferred
Consulted seeing stones and the birds.
At last they went
And gave their consent
To find some pretty plants to inter.
And so they planted a garden
Soon as warm breezes started to hearken
But the results of the thaw
Left all the scribes in awe
As all their topsoil seemed rather to harden.
They decided that fertilizer
Would make their hard dirt much nicer
To green plants, such as
Pale turnips for hash
And bright, sweet, yummy tomaters.
For years they used only one dung
and had it shipped in by the ton,
Poo from the butts
Of several strange mutts
Mixed with dry peat (it smelled like a bum).
Now later a few bold sharp scribes
Took it to their heads to decide
That yummy spring veggies
Gave all of them wedgies
And gas from the front and behind.
They said to the sages, “We want flowers
For we desire their medicinal powers
To get rid of the the gas
And the pain in the ass
That dogs us from the fruits of the growers.”
The sages in charge, they agreed
And said “There are parts gone to seed
So fire up the tallow
On the parts that are fallow
And always remember to weed.”
The scribes they heard this with joy
And began to create their new toy.
They brought out the rakes
Other scribes brought out stakes
And cried “Let's start trimming, boys.”
Other scribes came around for a gander,
And found that their yummy provender
Had been pulled up up by the roots
Cause it gave someone toots
They even pulled out the lavender.
“Sages most high!” They did angrily cry,
“Verily we demand to know why
That some wanton jerks
Killed our edible perks
And dumped all this crap on our rye.”
The arguments, they raged long and bitter.
Several scribes realized they missed dinner
With the tubers they roasted
And collards they toasted
And they realized that their middles were thinner.
But others delighted in the fact
That all their work had finally paid back.
They filled up the bowers
With beautiful flowers
And left bouquets at the ends of the stacks.
Into the keep wandered an old mage.
His face was quite wrinkled with age.
He looked all about
Then a sudden pang of gout
Caused him to sit and watch the scribes rage.
After watching the fracas a while
The mage began to give a wide smile.
His ensuing guffaws
Caused many dropped jaws
From the scribes bickering on pavement tiles.
“Why are you laughing?” asked they.
And verily the old mage did say,
“Thine epic gyrations
Are amiss with thine stations
And thine 'problems' have just made my day.
“The courtyard is quite big enough
And although some sections are rough
I think there's enough room
For lilies and legumes.
So quit pretending thine feathers are tough.
“The flowers, they all look quite grand
All around the leading edge they should stand.
Put the veggies in the center
They provide good provender
And remember to put fertilizer in the sand.”
The scribes, oh they were aghast!
How dare that old man come and blast
Their wailing and spittle
Into whiny drivel
But his solution seemed sharp enough to last.
And so the scribes weeded their greens.
From sunflowers to parsnips and peas
And added the poo
So the plants would grow true
But the fruits were kept spotlessly clean.
What of the the old mage you might say?
He still wanders around to this day.
For a bit of respite
He puffs on his pipe
And mutters cantrips each morning to play.
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Mr_Miscellany
Senior Scribe
545 Posts |
Posted - 20 Nov 2009 : 07:54:35
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| I'm using that last bit in my Realms campaign. It works. |
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Jakk
Great Reader
Canada
2165 Posts |
Posted - 22 Nov 2009 : 01:53:43
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Bravo, Lady Fellshot! I'd never thought of using the limerick as a verse structure for more epic poetry, but it works. On a RW related note, did you know that Coleridge's "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" can be sung to the theme music from "Gilligan's Island"? I'm sure that fairly shortly, many other scribes will be cursing my name for raising this question, but I don't use the lich avatar for nothing...  |
Playing in the Realms since the Old Grey Box (1987)... and *still* having fun with material published before 2008, despite the NDA'd lore.
If it's comparable in power with non-magical abilities, it's not magic. |
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wintermute27
Learned Scribe
USA
179 Posts |
Posted - 22 Nov 2009 : 02:58:13
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quote:
Originally posted by Jakk
On a RW related note, did you know that Coleridge's "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" can be sung to the theme music from "Gilligan's Island"?
So can about 80% of Emily Dickinson's Poems...  |
My Current Campaign: The Adventures of the Stonelanders |
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Wooly Rupert
Master of Mischief
USA
36876 Posts |
Posted - 22 Nov 2009 : 03:40:40
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A lot of songs and poems can be set to the Gilligan's Island themesong -- even some hymns, from what I've been told.
I wonder if the Realms has any tunes like that?  |
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I am the Giant Space Hamster of Ill Omen! |
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Jakk
Great Reader
Canada
2165 Posts |
Posted - 22 Nov 2009 : 04:29:20
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Heh... actually, I'm quite relieved that I didn't have anything new there. Wooly... have you sent that question along to Ed yet?  |
Playing in the Realms since the Old Grey Box (1987)... and *still* having fun with material published before 2008, despite the NDA'd lore.
If it's comparable in power with non-magical abilities, it's not magic. |
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A little reflective humor about 4e
