[Night Stalker]

All this ellusive alliterating
Has forced me to sit pontificating,
Contemplating these words within this
Forum we loathe, and yet adore.
What can that mad Bard be thinking?
What will tonight, be Timber drinking?
And though I've not seen Kat here slinking,
If she were, there would be [img]graemlins/whackya.gif[/img] gallore.
There would be [img]graemlins/whackya.gif[/img] gallore.

And from the recesses within my brain,
Suddenly conjured, there is a name.
A little boy, Oliver was he,
Saying a phrase, so strange it seems,
For no matter how high the heat would reach,
He was yearning, begging, pleading for more.
Sayeth the boy ....
"Please, Sir ..... some more!"

First up! Magik and Rokenn
Turned round and round like mice, not men
Over whether our President
Had waged a just and legal war.
Yet sayeth the boy ...
"Please, Sir .... some more!"

The next combatant to join the fray
Was a little Skunk. He lifted his tail
And sprayed the battlefield
With a stench that none had smelled before.
Quaint little facts mixed with fiction,
All wrapped in eloquent diction.
Adversity seemed to be his mission.
But the boy choked out
"Plesase, Sir ..... *cough* some more"

And then the Great Religious Debate ensued.
And dark undercurrents were brewed.
While others looked on quite bemused
Of the topic they'd not thought much of yore.
And the boy egged on
"Please, Sir .... some more!"

NOTE: Edits to be made as whim suits me. All events and charactors are purely ficticous. Any resemblences, real or imagined, to any denizen of this forum are random acts of humorous license.

[ 11-01-2003, 05:03 PM: Message edited by: Night Stalker ]