h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Not if it's rude.

And Fizzy, I know my spelling - usually.

Just changing the Subject line...

I actually choked when I read your poem but I did read grate as opposed to great.

And I just changed it back ..... and then back again.


How was I to know I was racing you to the next post, Icy?

There was a great lady poet
Who was good but didn't quite know it
She writes many a sonnet
From under her bonnet
And her poetry list grows bit by bit

There was an auldoll from Belfast
Who liked to make brews and spells cast
She witchety woo'd
Until tickety boo'd
With peace in Bel's journal at last.

My poem sits and shivers out in the journal light
Scared rhymeless of reviewers - but you'll be gentle, right?

Whenever I see Mala's rhymes
Exhibited before us
I quickly don my critic's hat
And sharpen my thesaurus.

Icy has a sharp thesaurus
He would have us know
He's just about to use it
To prune poor Mala's flow
I'm not quite sure if that's allowed
Or is covered by house rule
But I'll be taking cover
Just in case. I am no fool!

I grate the cheese I use to cook.
The grate's before the fire.
By oft repeating raspy words
To grateness I aspire.

Yet Fizzymouse has nowt to fear
From Icy's diatribe
The rodent's verse is rarely worse
Than some I could describe

Solnushka smiles in benign approval
at the tasty creative strudel
being mixed about
being layered on
being cooked up
and looks forward to the delicious dishes soon to come in the poetry challenge A87725613, oh and while you are at it don't forget about the recipe share A87721626.
Just remember, no poodles.

Oh, look at Icy's snow-capped heights
In critic's nest reclining
And thinking from his lofty words
We meaning are divining.
He charges with a sharpened pen
That we should cower before him -
Shall we defend with rhymes? With wit?
Or shall we merely bore him?

Against the slings and arrows of Icy's barbs,
We must charge!
We must fight the good fight!
We must never surrender,
these white screen cliffs,
which we labour to fill with aptly worded arguments and anecdotes.
Whoduzeethinkeeizanyway?

I shouldn't think a mouse should cow
I owe you an apology
This catty problem's dogging me
It's messing with zoology

Tut tut. Invoking ologies
- the lowest form of wit! -
While offering apologies
Confused me quite a bit.
I'm owed an explanation!
Apologise some more!
Then praise my last creation!
(And yes, I'm keeping score.)

Hah,

I am a mouse that bit is true
But I can fizz and roar and brew
Great potions and some rhymey spells
That handles things, dissension quells.
So while I'm cow'd and staying low
You may make hay because you know
I will come back with more backchat
And Icy'll have to deal with that!

And so the children call it time,
The Poets' odes have quelled them.
Maybe because the quest to rhyme
Has the power to expel them.

Or maybe friends, who oft unite
With those who need defending,
Against those who like to bite,
Often offenders reoffending.

For ten years, It's been the trend,
The minority to buck
The Rules, that they want to bend
Because the don't give a fig!

Why they stay, I do not know,
If the site causes such grief?
Somewhere that lets their dogma grow,
Surely would give relief.

The stalwarts of this new site
Will hold true to hootoo,
And defend it with all their might,
So otherscan enjoy it to.

William 'Mazin' McGonagal,

aka MMF



*Bel, apologies for being late on parade. No defence. Hope the ode is not odiferous!!!*