'Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the forum,
Not a creature was stirring, 'cept for the boring.....
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'Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the forum,
Not a creature was stirring, 'cept for the boring.....
The Members were nestled snug all in their sheds
While visions of chisles danced in their heads
Ashore
I hope that the catelogue I've left strategically circled,
has hopefully workled < sorry...:o >
This xmas is easy, we both want the same thing, lol Nuffin! Will enjoy getting the kids stuff they need more.
While Santa circled high in the sky,
Below in the shed there came a faint cry.....
He's tripped on a hammer, got caught in the saw,
His left foot knocked down a large 4X4
The glue had upended all over the floor.....
And his knee had split open his new pinafore
"No worry" said Santa, "I've seen this before"
"At least he didn't pull off the whole bloody door"
And a new shed arrived and peace reigned once more.
Greg
The elves in the workshop fiddled and meddled
The green paint tin was wrong and reddled
Santa irate then turned and seddled
Your reputations are going to be Zeddled
(well, he started it with Workled!)
"Our reputations!??!" quoth several elves.
"Who cares about them? Apart from ourselves?"
"For long enough now, we have been merely butts
Of loads of bad jokes over port and some nuts."
"We're fed-up, Father Christmas!
It's time we were heard.
You'll need to take action
And...."
....deal with the nerd
For if it's on again in twelve months time
You can.............
......do it yourself
'cause us little elves are going to retire
to a shed that's a workshop, until we expire
and there we'll make sawdust and shavings plethora
from great big trees and lumps of Makore
so you see, if you don't give us a break
next year you'll be.......
..served with an ambit log of claims...
Oh Shedhand! What happened to you inner poet?;)Quote:
Originally Posted by Shedhand
At risk of being pedantic:rolleyes: poetry does not have to rhymme.
I stand before you humbly correctedQuote:
Originally Posted by Iain
feeling sad and somewhat rejected.
BUT
the inner poet waxed and therefore was
and needs not rhymes to exist
:D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D
I recall a local rag in or about Shepparton a few moons ago when a local bumbling bard put pen to paper and relived his wild nights of dancing during the 40's and 50's
Fridays in Shepparton I danced
Saturdays in NUmurkah I danced
Sundays in Nathalia I danced
Fridays in Katamatite I danced............
This went on for a whole bloody page:(
But at least it rhymmes:p
Don't think he became poet laureate:rolleyes:
B ugger the inner poetQuote:
Originally Posted by chrisb691
Dontcha know it
I'm just an old activist
Who'll fight for the elves
While you sip your Moet.....
Please note
I took the liberty to correct your quote..
Pretty awful I know :rolleyes:but I'm no Bard
Too late, the elves got replaced by the twelves ( slightly taller version)
Twas indeed a most poetic riposte.Quote:
Originally Posted by Shedhand
T'wasDoes that make Bard a B'ard:DQuote:
Originally Posted by chrisb691
To be a BardQuote:
Originally Posted by Shedhand
Is not p'raps so hard
As you may think.
These days the caper
Don't even need paper,
Much less pen and ink.
To pursue your Muse
All you now need to use
Is a keyboard and mouse.
Any other suggestions?
Comments or questions?
Feel free to espouse
Your creative juices;
And ....
Actually......'TwasQuote:
Originally Posted by Iain
Of 'ucked up again;)Quote:
Originally Posted by chrisb691
:D:D:D:D:DQuote:
Originally Posted by Iain
........the elves went on strike and picketed the north pole.Quote:
Originally Posted by Driver
Whereupon, the IRC threw out their ambit claim and.....
...declared Santa a protected soul...
Ah! soul.