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Fillamayer! (Free verse) by smiffy84 All hail, Fillamayer!
Legendary Dragon slayer
Tall tales and storytellers
King of all is Fillamayer!
Tales of adventure, vanquished foes
Devouring maidens in passionâs throes
Fillamayer! All where he roams
Makes sure, he, his story is told
Dragon slain! And in his lair
Where he now rots, his treasure there
Riches seen, beyond compare
Fillamayer! He knows no fear
Fillamayer! Where is this treasure?
So immense it defies measure?
Why not take, for your own pleasure
A coin, a scale, a Dragon feather?
Go, now, Fillamayer!
Storeyed jester, fable maker
No more you a Dragon slayer
Than you clairvoyant be, damned liar!
Dragons may as well pigs be
Your stories draw no love from me
No admiration shall you see
Go slay more dragons, leave me be
Up the ladder:
Hurtin' Once Again
Down the ladder:
the secret life of the sundew
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 4.3333335
Posted: June 23, 2005 10:20 AM PDT; Last modified: June 23, 2005 10:20 AM PDTWeighted score: 4.9205313 Overall Rank: 9515 Comments:
[3]
Bankrupt_Word_Clerk @ 71.130.168.146
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23-Jun-05/11:43 AM
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Reply
when people move their verbs to accomodate a rhyme. I of Yoda think.
[n/a]
smiffy84 @ 82.3.32.76
> Bankrupt_Word_Clerk
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26-Jun-05/4:12 AM
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Reply
I know what you mean, and I do try to avoid messing with the structure of sentences as much as I can, but pobody's nerfect, and besides, if Shakespeare didn't see a problem with it, who am I to argue with him?
Not bad. But the best poemranker lay in the olden style is still this one:
THE LAY OF KING BUMBLEMEAT Whither the meatly hats of yesterlunch? Whither the sausage helmets, the hammy porkpies, the berets Shimm'ring in sunlight, so meatly, All smelling sweetly Of honey and jelly-glaze? Whither King Bumfirst's hamhock, that bunched So gloriously on his ears as he rode that day Swinging his wet truncheon: To luncheon! To luncheon! So awfully, so embarassingly gay? Alas! No more the meat! Alas! No more those hats! The ham-fedoras flapping their silly brims among the leaves Of Bumwood! Lost completely Are those bright helms, so meatly, Collapsed with somewhat sickly splats On the tops of our Wellingtons (Beeves). 165 view(s)
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