Picnic At The Bonfire Glade

[mark12_30]

Cami, Lossiel, and Gamba finally spied the poet, and tiptoed round til they had him surrounded. He was pondering mid the flames that flickered at his feet, and the depths of his profound eyes reflected the fires-- or did the fires merely envy his eyes that were the windows into the fires of his soul?

Lossiel stepped forward, lifted her stuffed pepper, and with a voice full of pathos, cried,

Now more than ever seems it rich to die
And launched the pepper at him.

To cease upon the midnight with no pain,

cried Cami, as her stuffed pepper caught him just below the ear.

Then Gamba finished rapidfire with a stuffed pepper::
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
followed closely by apple Pie ala mode:
In such an ecstasy!


Gamba siezed the poet by one hand, pulling him forward. "Dance, for the nightingale, man! Life is shorter than we know!"


The poet's rage was just beginning to kindle. He closed his eyes, because he could not close his ears.

T'was not, the grief that now he wore,
from clothing being now besmirched,
but deeper sorrow yet he bore
for descration of such verse!

Gamba thought his might be a good time to let go of the man's hand, and find another place to be. He fled, followed by giggling Cami and graceful Lossiel, who turned to look over her shoulder and sing a few more lines.

[ September 23, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]