The Spoonbill Generator

Invisible Sandwiches - The Tiresome Beginnings

She found the smoothest stone,

Tweeting betwixt the astrolabe

And the broken telephone

It lay beneath her tongue

Just below the rung,

Where her song remains unsung.

Saliva ebbed and flowed

While the stone composed an ode

On reason's rutted road

Her tongue began to wear,

The rung began to tear

A counsel of despair

Her head began to weary

She appeared incredibly dreary!

Youth's lamp dimly lit, revealed a faded view

She licked her waxen hair

And faded from the air

In postures rank and rare

Invisible, she waits

behind Roland's unseen gate,

Where reason remonstrates

Illicit love doth fade

and vanishes thereto,

Relentless renegade

Illicit hate doth show,

A hate more foul than fair

A dismal dynamo

She found the smoothest stone,

Worn still shinier yet

She held it to her bossom,

Its milky tones compelled

To tell her sordid tale,

The vagrant nightingale

She touched it to her tongue,

Its acrid memory loud

The fragrant morning bell.

reminding that illicit love

Smites nightingale and dove

Important tastes will tell,

As this stone unfolds it's wing

discovers flight of fantasy an exciting thing

The ending of this tale.


Contributors: Stacy, Anon., P, Roland, TG, Lucretia, Kent, KD, Bop, SAA, stacy, Kent Alexander, Stacy ALexander, B Knight, soft`rain
Poem finished: 19th February 1997