A Conversation for Each Post a Rimickle

Each Post a Rimickle

Post 61

Recumbentman

Well Ken is the guy
To give it a try
And haul the game back from oblivion;
And I'm a twelfth century Bolivian
And piggies might fly


Each Post a Rimickle

Post 62

chaiwallah

Don't give up on Ken
You never know when
His destiny might turn a corner.
He now must be feeling forlorner
Than most other men.


Each Post a Rimickle

Post 63

Mr. Christopher, enjoying the Magicians Guild game where he is called Polonius Franc, Elder Healer and local merchant

The color code
For by abode
Is a mixture of white and slate gray
And we're all very happy with it that way
Our neighbors dode.


Each Post a Rimickle

Post 64

Recumbentman

Well Ken has done wellish
And not to embellish
The faithless prediction I made,
My words, though they must stay displayed
I now eat with relish


Each Post a Rimickle

Post 65

Mr. Christopher, enjoying the Magicians Guild game where he is called Polonius Franc, Elder Healer and local merchant

Is Norman Bates lacking
Some mental packing?
Some locals feel that he should be commited
After he put on a dress and the bathroom emmited
Sounds of hacking.


Each Post a Rimickle

Post 66

Recumbentman

In ancient Bolivia
I live by the river Ya-
catupi, majestic and big;
While nibbling wings of roast pig
I play games of trivia


Each Post a Rimickle

Post 67

chaiwallah



(16 frames all in the last session!
Who would have believed it?)

The Dublin terrier
Made Williams warier
By snapping away at his heels.
I wonder how Doherty feels?
I'd say Mark is merrier.


Each Post a Rimickle

Post 68

Mr. Christopher, enjoying the Magicians Guild game where he is called Polonius Franc, Elder Healer and local merchant

"A plant unruley
Will seem made newly
By clipping around the trunk and edges
And shaping it up like privit hedges,"
Said Ms Dooley.


Each Post a Rimickle

Post 69

chaiwallah

Let's hear it for the Rimickle.

It's unwise to ridicule
A verse like the rimicule
Which our poets have taken a long
Time to turn into something like song...
A task far from minuscule.


Each Post a Rimickle

Post 70

Recumbentman

A song needs a beat, or
Some regular metre
To drive it along with a scamper
Without it your squib has a damper
Like unsalted petre


Each Post a Rimickle

Post 71

Mr. Christopher, enjoying the Magicians Guild game where he is called Polonius Franc, Elder Healer and local merchant

But it can be
So happily
Sund to a tune of a forgoten time
SO all that matters is that it does rhyme
And it does, see?


Each Post a Rimickle

Post 72

Recumbentman

Some people think that anything goes
But I'm not one of those
Some treat metre like trash
And jettison it altogether (for instance Ogden Nash)
But in my humble opinion free verse, as someone once wisely remarked, is merely unjustified prose


Each Post a Rimickle

Post 73

Recumbentman

The young Marcel Proust
Was easily seduced
By a scent or a sound or a hairdo
A la Recherche du Temps Perdu
He therefore produced


Each Post a Rimickle

Post 74

chaiwallah



Wasn't it buns
That fuelled Proust's guns?
Something to do with his dipping
A mad'leine in tea sent him tripping
In memory's tuns?


Each Post a Rimickle

Post 75

chaiwallah

It's really quite odd
To be here in a bod
Where one feels one no longer belongs -
A dilemma whose mystical prongs
No doubt amuse God.


Each Post a Rimickle

Post 76

Mr. Christopher, enjoying the Magicians Guild game where he is called Polonius Franc, Elder Healer and local merchant

A friend died in class
And all cried "Alas!"
But I do not fret nor weep nor acuse
Because I am sure that he did use
Heaven's FastPass


Each Post a Rimickle

Post 77

Recumbentman

If heaven's so great
We're better off late
So nuke us all now on our way
And when we get there we will pray
For you the same fate


Each Post a Rimickle

Post 78

chaiwallah



I'd just like to state
I'll not rush to be late,
(I'm addicted to procrastination.)
And I'm hoping mass annihilation
Will not be our fate!


Each Post a Rimickle

Post 79

Recumbentman

From nothing we've come
And when we succumb
It's straight back to nothing, they say
So what have we lost on the way?
Why, nothing old chum!


Each Post a Rimickle

Post 80

Mr. Christopher, enjoying the Magicians Guild game where he is called Polonius Franc, Elder Healer and local merchant

I see
A tree
High
Fly
A birdy


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