David James

Foundation- pep hon'ble
locomotive.

legion arise!
...

'Thine quarterstaff for a camel! '
The pilgrim fumed, in a far away land
upon vast dunes of sand;
whence water hitherto is ort but found
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Rake-Hell, born of flame, a devil true;
evil thro' and thro'. Tis nay wise to utter
his name; for fear he lingers near,
to cut you from ear to ear.
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Thou would nought find a more fiendish
gal-ere of ne'er do wells than that of
the Moth and Ivy. For nay would a wise-man
set foot in such a tavern of low repute
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'Luck be a lady! '

A pirate captain decreed, as he played
his daring hand. He risked a ship from
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An infamous fiend named Tat had lunged
at the bard from behind, one nick of his
knife spelt certain doom to life, for it was
magically twisted with evil inside
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Oblivion; eddies, tender tit-
illation, spearheaded fluctuation;
egressing from throat's abyss, our Father
and Mother's virgin tongues lock in tranquil bliss.
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Thro' swampy bogs and misty fogs,
we fester and wait for victim's to bait.
Trinkets and baubles in our haste go to waste,
for all we want to do is taste.
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In town square's late moon, afore the crow could croon.
A filch'er darted hither and thither
between stalls and merchant hauls.
Such was the filchers way to prowl
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Timelessly majestic, momentous blink.
caught awry as it chips at armors chinks.
Imperfect crescendo innuendo
dryly washes over us; wearing us.
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Supersede love from lust as we lie free;
sincerely aware and perplexed in doubt.
The pretender of the sea; readily
ready for sleepless sleeps as we lie free.
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O fear, fear will it die! ?
Nightly terror here I spy!
fated ere' to meet thee rake,
come hell darkly shape.
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