RE:

really, what is it
what did you do man

There is a tree with no branches...

Well, don't look at me.....I didn't do it.........................gogant......

Quote:

Originally Posted by stefy

really, what is it
what did you do man

RE:

So, like, what got done?

RE:

From the chocolate loam rises a trunk, greened with velvet moss...

Last edited by Marsink 09-30-2010 at 07:24:07 PM

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Gone the fronds that spawn upon tree o’er yon,
laying lifeless now on pond, just waiting for the dawn.

What are we doing here ???

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The land in languished anguish groans
As it bathes in the mist of trysted moan
Where go ye glay 'pon merried mirth
To spy taged treasure unmeasured worth

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My me, moe lad, and manny jack
To bine awe-toe ye glossy black
Brawned trunk 'O tree of lore this be
Upon yon mossy bossy lossy spawn

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Unusual and beautiful, illusion of contusions looming,
Bruising of the ego soothing beasts made more amusing,
Presuming your assuming musing on my intellect perusing,
Lost in grand delusion chose to use without abusing.

(I didn't know if there was a rhyme or reason.....)

Last edited by Rygar 09-30-2010 at 11:07:35 PM

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Hey, said she....give it to me straight..

Could one not know the afterglow
Of maid’s fair golden coursing hair
And watch till dawn does spawn
With not a care one does not dare
To try reaching love beseeching
Beckoning without reckoning
So on goes he, chasing she
The one so lovely, lovely as a tree…

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To bee that tree, said he with glee
Am I no more than a singer for free
So shall I ply my trade for the tree handmaid
who's skin is bark where dog's have sprayed

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Trees please me as I tease gleefully,
Spiritually seized by the silliness engulfing me,
Seas of these pieces of indecency's insanity,
Hiving of bees to end this rhyme without profanity.

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Maiden tree of shiny trunk
Is your favor turned in burning spunk
Statuesque in glades no shade upon
To rile a smile from the scum on pond

Is it true your bark is your bite
As the moon by noon dims at night?
All agree to see thee wee knee high
Your enscarpled ankles as they walk by

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Scum comes from nature’s pond,
Or spun from fun in trysts beyond,
Her song is sung from lips of wrong,
While strong and righteous stay the dawn…

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By the by, some wonder why
That your branches lost,
Had poked an eye
Legend has it, gummy bears
Spun their tummies in your hair

Your beauty is such that suitors go dutch
An your trunk was hacked to carve a crutch
No need to fear of lovers etched names
In the pond scum, on kettle drum they play a game

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Enscarpled indeed she thus did plea
Get your damn dog of mine log
‘for I crack you with a smack
I’m not just any knot
Nor curled maple do I draple
I live only for another’s chore
So get out of here,
Or else, I swear
I’ll call upon the gillygong
And have you weeping
Just for peeping
Up my trunk…you dirty skunk

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In the woods there’s a chuck and a tiger, too
How much bark did the band saw chew?
The music did ride in gliding tones
While the wood chuck plucked pond scum bones

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Get your chucking chuck outta here...

And so the laden maiden
Made of lumber gave a thunder
Loud and strong as Kabla Kun
Knocked the lad with all she had
Clean across the stones of moss
Laughed did he upon his knee
Give me leave, oh dear please
I’m still aching for the takin’
I’ll rub you right with all my might
And tender your bender
Like a loose goose on a caboose

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Maple chores and giggling pores
The dark bark snarked the lilling lores
Bees and bears know no cares
But sill endure her charmless glares

RE:

Alright, Marck, I think you've gone overboard.....

RE: Stumpy ( as I fondly address her)

You don't have to bring watercraft into it--wait--there's an idea!!

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i spare a chance to dance with fair,
prepared to bare my soil aware,
with bark and sap to snap who dare,
trespass beyond invited prayer.

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With bark and sap and now a boat,
My lovely glen some how a moat,
And still I shine, don’t mean to gloat,
'Tis just a shame it drowned the goat.

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And so the lady known as Stefy
Left the boys alone
She never let out a moan
Just sat back and watched the act
Her eyes a blinking
Gave one to thinking
I wonder if she would
Be made of wood
To resemble starkly birch
Or just be happy upon her perch…

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And one last one from me.....

On the plains of Macedonia
lives a gal who raises begonias;
When late ev'ning falls
to her lover she calls --
"Give me lovin'
not matrimonias."

RE:

The boys alone, and left to be
Unkempt and rude but fun, you see
The words of George started one line
And blossomed into the Stumpy Time