Once, I spied a rainbow
from a field that had no name,
my smile was ever widened
and, I never felt the same.

My perception seemed to change
like a kid with a new, found toy;
although, I could not touch her hues
I still was filled with, joy!

I took her different colors
and fashioned some balloons,
then, carried them through life with me
until I heard the rainbow's tunes.

In early times the Ubeline
had fallen from their grace divine
when Ubelon, their kin and lord
against the Master's solemn word
transgressed and tarried long in sin. 5
The errant angel hid within
the confines of his solitude
as outlaw from the multitude
that gathered round the throne of Him
who made them all. Where light was dim 10
and shadow crept beyond the wall
of the expansive, ornate halls
the Master made. Where night was kept,
was where the errant angel slept.

Before the world was given hue,
ere mountain rose or forest grew,
and young was river under sky;
before the frost capped mountains high,
when young was leaf and new was root 5
and youthful brooks run round the foot
of hilly country, wide and far,
and lightened by the roaming star;
when wind would whisper with a voice
and grasses in response rejoiced, 10
the maiden's song, creation's strain
still could be heard. A sweet refrain.
Creation's strain, the maiden's song

The night was clear, the stars shone fierce,
and starlight through the foliage pierced.
The fields were open, vacant glades
of stagnant air and bending blades.
The rivers quiet, waters still 5
beside the foot of aging hill.
The banners limp in standing air
and towers gleaming proud and fair.
The clouds were gone, the sky was clear,
yet closer crept a shadow drear. 10
With each rank breath it slithered on,
toward the banks of Lilion.
It slithered on with each rank breath:
the malevolent face of death.

Far in the outlands, long ago,
where valleys sunk and mountains rose,
when gurgling streams from highlands run
and fishes in the ocean swam,
when grass was green and tree took root, 5
and beasts would eat the flesh of fruit;
beneath the silver shimmering lights
that danced on cold and snowy heights,
through distant fields, through open glades
from watery vales to gloomy shades 10
the world was fair, the world was young,
'ere strife was made, or wrong was done.
The world was young, the world was fair,

CLUNK
On the island of Clunk,
Where brass monkeys sell junk
And the people are all kept in zoos,
There's a strange sort of beast,
In a cave to the East,
Called the Enty-Magenty-Magoo

To describe him.... I'll try,
He's about the same size
As the Purple Big Boggy Badoo,
But unlike that giant duck,
He just roars, doesn't cluck,
Not the Enty-Magenty-Magoo .

I'd been but ten years in this manifest
when first I knew my destiny was death.
I well remember, when the thought expressed
it blew so cold it took away my breath.
So do we then conclude, cease to exist?
 A fear, a terror wrapped, I did not know.
 As fast as it had come, the thought dismissed,
 ‘twas early yet to question where we go.
 1

I
Oft there comes a wind to tell a tale,
and oft am I without the wherewithal,
to set my ship on voyage forth to sail
beyond the sight of sheets, where ink will fall.

But now, I must recite in measured verse
a tale, yet famous, but in me sublime.
I hope I do not make this tale too terse’
and spoil a song in less majestic mime.

So shall I tell the tale of Inklindon,
of merry inky folk and of their cares,
and when at length, my verse is spent and done,
I shall move on and leave you with my wares.

Once there was a lovely land
'twas specifically so grand,
where a king ruled, with his queen, and the couple's prince;

they lived their lives without a care
for an even hand ruled so "fair",
such a great king had not ruled, ever since!

The young prince was coming of age
and minus squires and, his page,
he was given a quest to accomplish, on his own;

after there were two more 'morrows
he'd find the pond of double sorrows,
thus proving, he was now completely grown.

14
What has Cain brought forth to our Earth
but mist and mud and lots of lust.
No more than a grain of salt's worth,
nothing, but sorrows and mistrust.

15
There, Ken thought it's lots of delight-
and shamelessly plotted for it.
In a ludic party one night,
he'd decided a time to set.

16
"Too much merriment I shall get
tomorrow before the sunset,
"No devil but I , shall abet
ending Someone's tortured spirit."