Post by Icor on Jun 17, 2005 2:03:16 GMT -4
Mat sat in that golden sphere without any fears,
Staring out as he flew through clouds for nearly four years,
Scribbling down his stories, theories, rhymes & times,
Recording assuredly his finds, drawing with fine lines,
Every tree, flea, & eventually tick on every stick,
Until the free pages to pick, place, & space his wages thick
Quickly & swiftly vanished, famished, space less,
‘Till lastly & graciously Mat’s flight flopped,
And short little he waddled with a twiddle to find & bind…
Resources, of course.
Rest assured, not being absurd, Mat gathered the things,
Taking up mental & confidential stings while in his traveling,
Returned unburned & sober to his unnamed hover globe abode,
Blank & dank books & pages in hand thanks to earthly sages and mages,
Let up sense then, lucky, to the foggy heavens,
Free again to evidence the all the sixes & sevens of everything,
Everywhere, until days die & sheep fly sky high.
Though friends Mat had not
With this fuss fixed Mat hushed up to land on sand soundly,
Exiting his tome-filled home, small he hiked right out to explore first hand fondly,
Details in tree-trails and dirt-paths to surpass,
Mat not in first nor last lastly came to a pleasing place in space and rock:
A fisherman’s dock to walk lightly and brightly.
Given hesitantly yet courteously a pole to stroll with was he.
Haste was out of taste
In bit, without any fit or prattle, paddled Mat to the lake with bait,
Rod, hook, and book in hand for a private band, or there-of lack,
He’d wait, cast fast, and twaddle his bland hand against named steel reel,
A bite, as if by fate, jerked and claimed Mat’s tack,
Wishing that fishing would lurk a fish on a wish defiantly,
Mat caught one rightly and boasted as he floated.
Then honored was Mat
Fishermen clapped and tapped toes to be teetering,
So much as to inflate and concentrate Mat’s esteem,
Mat expressed and confessed a thin grin in his victory,
And in his pleasant win Mat shook palms and shared psalms on hours without end,
Until taken by work and duty home, having made a friend.
Or two.
Staring out as he flew through clouds for nearly four years,
Scribbling down his stories, theories, rhymes & times,
Recording assuredly his finds, drawing with fine lines,
Every tree, flea, & eventually tick on every stick,
Until the free pages to pick, place, & space his wages thick
Quickly & swiftly vanished, famished, space less,
‘Till lastly & graciously Mat’s flight flopped,
And short little he waddled with a twiddle to find & bind…
Resources, of course.
Rest assured, not being absurd, Mat gathered the things,
Taking up mental & confidential stings while in his traveling,
Returned unburned & sober to his unnamed hover globe abode,
Blank & dank books & pages in hand thanks to earthly sages and mages,
Let up sense then, lucky, to the foggy heavens,
Free again to evidence the all the sixes & sevens of everything,
Everywhere, until days die & sheep fly sky high.
Though friends Mat had not
With this fuss fixed Mat hushed up to land on sand soundly,
Exiting his tome-filled home, small he hiked right out to explore first hand fondly,
Details in tree-trails and dirt-paths to surpass,
Mat not in first nor last lastly came to a pleasing place in space and rock:
A fisherman’s dock to walk lightly and brightly.
Given hesitantly yet courteously a pole to stroll with was he.
Haste was out of taste
In bit, without any fit or prattle, paddled Mat to the lake with bait,
Rod, hook, and book in hand for a private band, or there-of lack,
He’d wait, cast fast, and twaddle his bland hand against named steel reel,
A bite, as if by fate, jerked and claimed Mat’s tack,
Wishing that fishing would lurk a fish on a wish defiantly,
Mat caught one rightly and boasted as he floated.
Then honored was Mat
Fishermen clapped and tapped toes to be teetering,
So much as to inflate and concentrate Mat’s esteem,
Mat expressed and confessed a thin grin in his victory,
And in his pleasant win Mat shook palms and shared psalms on hours without end,
Until taken by work and duty home, having made a friend.
Or two.