Finnius Posted December 8, 2004 Report Posted December 8, 2004 A little blue tent sits off to one side of the Carnival, piles of snow drifting up and over one side, creating an indigo-lined igloo. A sign outside invites all inside, whereon a tiny pixie flits to and fro, waiting for all who enter. Once a small crowd has formed, she clears her throat and begins. "Gathered here, in groups or singles, Wanting geld, or maybe fun, Or maybe both; but I'll not linger, Or, least not til this poem's done. My name is Nymsy, here on loan, Because my boss is occupied, I'll run his tent til he gets back, Or til the Carnival has died." Here she shrugs, and grins a bit, And pulls out chairs and stools and stuff, And beckons all around to sit, And flits back in a hurried huff. "The game is simple, so he says, But me, I find it quite the tease, Describe these things in different ways, Without their names, if you please." And in the middle poofs a table, With a glass and cloth on it, And several quills and bits of paper, On which to write haiku or sonnet. The pixie grins and pulls the cloth, Which shines more bluely than a lake, And when it clears, there pure and soft, One single, perfect, white snowflake. *** OOC: Ok, here're the rules in plain English. I'll give you an object, the first one being a snowflake. Your challenge is to write a descriptive poem about the object, without using its name, or any part of its name in said poem. So for instance, the words "Snow" and "Flake" are both no-goes in this one. Poems are worth 5 geld. Every day or two I'll change the object, and you can write another poem for another 5 geld. Enjoy!
Peredhil Posted December 8, 2004 Report Posted December 8, 2004 On the blustery winter day when I awake It is out the window that I peek, A marvel of delicate handiwork I see - Thousands of white crystals, each unique. Bundling up in warm winter clothes, Trailing a sled, now 'tis a hill I seek.
WrenWind Posted December 8, 2004 Report Posted December 8, 2004 twinkle slowly fluttering tiny flash of light lost in the frosty landscape
Gryphon Posted December 8, 2004 Report Posted December 8, 2004 With crystaline patterns, They look so nice, And cover the land, It's rain - but iced.
Tanuchan Posted December 8, 2004 Report Posted December 8, 2004 (edited) Cold and queenlyin their soft whitenesscoming in multitude,covering the fields:swirling in the windsettling on the grounda blanket of Winterveiling lifeguarding its sleepfor the coming Spring. Edited June 18, 2014 by Tanuchan formatting
Canid Posted December 8, 2004 Report Posted December 8, 2004 Crystaline structure Perforated uniquely. Not rain, nor quite hail. Falling, rising, drift. Moved by wind to strike the ground, Millions at a time. Child, grab them in lumps In a clean forest off each Branch. Bite your cold drink.
drummondo Posted December 8, 2004 Report Posted December 8, 2004 (edited) Picturesque powdered land, Perfect for a postcard; Beauty buried beneath Beauty. But with such bland Decoration, it's hard To look, and understand That each speck on the heath Is unique, crystal white; A storm in its own right. EDIT: I just read the poem in the first post; does each of our entries have to be a haiku or sonnet? :\ Edited December 8, 2004 by drummondo
Mynx Posted December 8, 2004 Report Posted December 8, 2004 The badge of winter Dancing in the frigid wind Winter's gentle kiss
Appy Posted December 8, 2004 Report Posted December 8, 2004 Sizzling on her still warm body Covering her tangled hair with intricate patterns Filling the gaps around her But never touching her cold dead heart with it's beauty and grace Winter's adversaries are here
Finnius Posted December 8, 2004 Author Report Posted December 8, 2004 Drummondo: Nope, I just used those as examples... and because it rhymed. Sort of. Anywho... BIC: "As snowflakes fall, and melt away, So must our game change too. But be not bummed, be bright and gay, The next one's meant just for you!" And with that the pixie flares the cloth, And covers the glass yet once again, And when the sheet is pulled aloft, There sits a pointed, old-styled Pen.
Canid Posted December 8, 2004 Report Posted December 8, 2004 Tool of scribes through time. Writing implement of yore. Poised to make fine lines.
drummondo Posted December 8, 2004 Report Posted December 8, 2004 A curse, a curse with means of voice, It binds thee to your thoughts for life, Some argue that you had a choice, But had you not put down your strife In words, you could not live now with the sane, For thoughts alone can bring us so much pain.
Gryphon Posted December 9, 2004 Report Posted December 9, 2004 (edited) The ink of my blood, Flows forth on the page. A tool for immortality, In this day and age. Edited December 9, 2004 by Gryphon
Peredhil Posted December 9, 2004 Report Posted December 9, 2004 From inkwell to page, Heart's blood flows black on white - Life's instrument writes.
Appy Posted December 9, 2004 Report Posted December 9, 2004 The metal tip, bend in a funny way The paint, once green, is almost gone I have to dip it, again and again, In ink to keep it going on And thus we write, forever more My friend and I
Annael Posted December 9, 2004 Report Posted December 9, 2004 words flowing tastefully across our minds, a lovely world of make-believe its a true treasure to find
epinephrine Posted December 9, 2004 Report Posted December 9, 2004 (edited) It remembers the writings of Newton and Thales, Of journeys of travellers through deserts and gales. Not fire nor wheel, nor wisdom of men, Compete with its import, The great, mighty writing implement... Edited December 9, 2004 by epinephrine
dragonqueen Posted December 9, 2004 Report Posted December 9, 2004 Drawing me in deeper yet. And I a willing victim. The art I cannot quite perfect. But still it dictates its whim, The words I cannot forget. Words I write, though time be slim. I am ever tangled in its net.
Katzaniel Posted December 9, 2004 Report Posted December 9, 2004 Long and thin, Waits on whim, They say it's better than a sword, But I don't trust it 'gainst a horde, Still I like it, Just can't fight it, It's just right for any caper, Perfect for ideas to paper!
Mynx Posted December 10, 2004 Report Posted December 10, 2004 (edited) To quoth my friend of Raven form The tool is a powerful wand Filled with the blood of wielder's heart It allows thoughts and words to bond Mightier than a sword, some say I believe this to be true So comfortably it lies within my paw And translates my absent muse Edited December 10, 2004 by Mynx
cryptomancer Posted December 10, 2004 Report Posted December 10, 2004 Late start, I would write for both so far if I may... Frozen flames of liquid life, Dispersed breath of winter's fire, Born of Heaven's delicate knife, Crafted by nature's desire. Blade of lovers lament, Torturing the liquid stain, Blending Power and love, Bonding Emotion to page. Part of my being Tangent of my heart Twisting love's meaning Blade of the poet's art.
Finnius Posted December 10, 2004 Author Report Posted December 10, 2004 "Excellent work, ye Mighty crew! I'm right and truly astounded! The next one, if I'm recalling true, Is largish, yellow, and rounded..." And with a flourish, and teeth like steel, The pixie swipes the cloth once more, And whisking it away reveals, The bright and early, morning star. OOC: Just to be a bit more clear, the morning star is Venus, and is the brightest thing in the night sky. (Well, except for the moon... sometimes.) You can see it near the moon, just below and to the left, if I remember correctly, and it is most apparent in the early morning or in the early evening. Enjoy! (And remember, "morning" and "star" are both out! Wheeeeeeee!)
Peredhil Posted December 10, 2004 Report Posted December 10, 2004 Isis' sacred symbol, Pentacle pathed planet, Half-light's beacon to love, Gird me with your might! Gazing up at mystic light, Through scope at sight above, Payingthe ones who ran it, Inclined rigid tube on gimbal.
WrenWind Posted December 10, 2004 Report Posted December 10, 2004 Godess of love bright light in the sky wings of a dove hides the twinkle as she flies
Gryphon Posted December 10, 2004 Report Posted December 10, 2004 Shining dust upon the curtain of the night, One speck shines brighter than the rest, Burning above us in a pale reflection, Of the beautiful godess whos name thou bear.
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