The Merry Maids Of Mayhem Poem by Justin Gildow
The Merry Maids Of Mayhem
It's past noon as I'm walking through the shire
Quietly making my way to the intersection
Past the dead heart of the shire
And I wait for them
Emerging from the many crowds
The Merry Maids of Mayhem come from different directions
And they gather around
And get themselves set to sing
I've been waiting for them
And in their hearts and minds
I believe they were expecting me to come around
And so they sing
And I stand, smile, and watch
Enjoying their performance
And enjoying them gently wind their way through song after song
15 minutes of the Merry Maids of Mayhem
15 minutes of their songs
15 minutes of perfection
It's all great
It all surely is
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 10:42:20 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Great title: Merry Maids of Mayhem! But what did they sing Was it some folklore thing, Or perhaps a bit of pop With mindless repitition that never seems to stop. But in the city where you dwell Would be proper that their voices swell To embrace the culture of us all And not be mayhem at all. So perhaps you'll write another bit To let us know where the preformers sit And entertain us with lyrics, Music from their 15 minutes. s