WrenWind Posted July 27, 2004 Report Posted July 27, 2004 The basket over flows Soft music from a flute Something for every taste Cornicopia of fruit Ham, jam and spam Cloth made from jute Draped over soft ground Slip off your boots Sit and enjoy As strains of music flow from a lute, The lady sits there. A vision of beauty Leaving all who see mute Be careful when you aproach Not to soil your fancy suit The path to the picnic Will have you climbing over the roots I wrote this on a whim and showed it to Peredhil first this was his contribution *giggles* But when you make it to her you'll smell an awful poot She'll laugh and laugh at your look at what came from between each glute. If you manage to escape the gas... you get to shout, "woo! Woot!" Peredhil:
Vigil StarGazer Posted July 28, 2004 Report Posted July 28, 2004 (edited) The ants crawling so slow over picnic table of wood ready to lay food to waste they mechanically began their loot spit, chew and glam marching on cloth of jute the ants began their festival round left nothing but soot the ants parade with joy marching with the sound of toot the swarm gather around with fecity leaving those who seem mute none dare approach crawling restlessly on pursuit the ant infested picnic will knock you off your boots. Edited July 28, 2004 by Vigil StarGazer
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