Wednesday, 25 August 2010

Quill's Comment

I wonder if Argent remembers Fishbait?

It was so longago the old Friday Night game down at the club.

The last poem was written as a memory of those times.

There are a few more, many of them a little silly.

Shadows Of Home

Shadows of Home

The Shadow sits in the corner, wearing a sill grin
Eating sweets and chocolate, drinking tonic with Djiin
Cards are playing gently, upon the tabletop
Troll with mixed vegetables, are cooking in the pot

The Clerics busy praying, the mage is reading a spell
The thief is picking pockets, the hobbits down the well
The Bard is busy singing a Ballard of our tale
The dwarf is solemnly drinking, from a giant’s pail

A jester walks into the inn wearing an idiot smile
Homer follows shortly, abandoning a gory pile
Upon the bar a bottle sits, a Gene dwells within
Upon the floor the dead remains - Abdul Ben Assassin

Fish bait dangling gently from a grappling hook
Whirled around a fighters head, the Gnome lands in the brook
An illusionist is casting up images of pork
Really, it’s annoying when one is half an orc

Cyber_Quill 13-3-88

Tuesday, 24 August 2010

The Party

The Party

The jester sits in a corner wreathed in clouds of green
With a knowing twinkle in his eye saying "I know where you've been"
Chaos and the Unicorn were playing another game
Things are getting out of hand, and will never be the same

The Shadow drifts in and out gently and usually with a smile
Drifting through the universe by the galactic mile
The Lady tries to intervene but things, have gone to far
So she sends Chaos to the kitchen to open up the Bar

Vino De Callapso and incense mist
The Shadow drifts in once again, and the Lady's hand is kissed
More people join the party, which is totally out to lunch
There’s more wine in the kitchen and lots of things to munch

We have had the final lesson and the ringing of the bells
And we all wake in the morning to deal with our private hells