Post by Kris11 on Sept 16, 2011 14:55:04 GMT 10
Title: The Making of a Poet
Rating: G
Word Count: 340
Card: Autumn
Bingo: Moon, Orange, Pie, Brown, Mature
Summary: Neal tries to write a poem for his lady love with a little... help from his friends. Also known as, a pretty good representation of why Kris actually doesn't write poetry.
“Your hair is brown like... like the darkest night, which is not brown at all, of course... No. Like the chocolate rich in... nutrients? What? Your hair is shiny like... fish. Oh, good gods help me here.”
The scratching of a quill on paper ended suddenly when said paper was crumbled and thrown to the floor. “Lady Katara, you shine in the light of the moon. Your beauty shines through the ... night... lit by a moon. Okay, the repetition might not be needed... Your beauty shines through the light of the moon and your fragrance lights the night like a thousand oranges. Your eyes light up my life, like the beauty of a ... and nothing rhymes with oranges, does it? Not one single word. Why would we even make a word that had nothing to rhyme with it? Is it meant to drive poets mad?”
“Is he a poet now?”
“How are we to tell?”
“I think the general depressed state, rumpled clothes, and ink on his face are signs supposed to warn us.”
“He didn’t have ink on his face before we agreed to sit at his dinner table. How were we to know to avoid him? Ouch! That apple is hard.”
“Hush, Seaver. Our poet is hard at work.”
“Thank you, Cleon. As I was saying. Your beauty shines through the night –“
“Well, thank you, Neal. I didn’t realize you felt that way – ouch! Those do hurt.”
“Told you.”
“YOUR BEAUTY SHINES IN ITS OWN MATURE LIGHT – “
“Isn’t ‘mature’ another word for ‘old’? Are you supposed to call a woman old?”
“Owen does have a point, poet.”
Neal put his head down on the table, dejected as the discussion about whether ‘moranges’ was a word, and if ‘old’ could ever be considered a compliment. “Am I destined to be alone?” he asked the table.
Kel smiled at him. “Eat your pie,” she said, pushing the plate closer to him. She watched him as he pulled the plate closer and started eating through a dramatic sigh.
Rating: G
Word Count: 340
Card: Autumn
Bingo: Moon, Orange, Pie, Brown, Mature
Summary: Neal tries to write a poem for his lady love with a little... help from his friends. Also known as, a pretty good representation of why Kris actually doesn't write poetry.
“Your hair is brown like... like the darkest night, which is not brown at all, of course... No. Like the chocolate rich in... nutrients? What? Your hair is shiny like... fish. Oh, good gods help me here.”
The scratching of a quill on paper ended suddenly when said paper was crumbled and thrown to the floor. “Lady Katara, you shine in the light of the moon. Your beauty shines through the ... night... lit by a moon. Okay, the repetition might not be needed... Your beauty shines through the light of the moon and your fragrance lights the night like a thousand oranges. Your eyes light up my life, like the beauty of a ... and nothing rhymes with oranges, does it? Not one single word. Why would we even make a word that had nothing to rhyme with it? Is it meant to drive poets mad?”
“Is he a poet now?”
“How are we to tell?”
“I think the general depressed state, rumpled clothes, and ink on his face are signs supposed to warn us.”
“He didn’t have ink on his face before we agreed to sit at his dinner table. How were we to know to avoid him? Ouch! That apple is hard.”
“Hush, Seaver. Our poet is hard at work.”
“Thank you, Cleon. As I was saying. Your beauty shines through the night –“
“Well, thank you, Neal. I didn’t realize you felt that way – ouch! Those do hurt.”
“Told you.”
“YOUR BEAUTY SHINES IN ITS OWN MATURE LIGHT – “
“Isn’t ‘mature’ another word for ‘old’? Are you supposed to call a woman old?”
“Owen does have a point, poet.”
Neal put his head down on the table, dejected as the discussion about whether ‘moranges’ was a word, and if ‘old’ could ever be considered a compliment. “Am I destined to be alone?” he asked the table.
Kel smiled at him. “Eat your pie,” she said, pushing the plate closer to him. She watched him as he pulled the plate closer and started eating through a dramatic sigh.