BrainKing - Klobe na mloveni (Poetry)

Ovaděč: TJ

Poetry

An outlet for players whose creativity extends beyond the board. Post your original works here!

The posting of song lyrics is not the purpose of this board and as such please refrain from doing so. Exceptions can be made to this rule if you are the copyrighted owner of the lyrics and the lyrics are not found offensive by the majority of the population.
This board is a place to post your original works of poetry and prose and also a place for discussion of poetry and related areas.

We have received word from Fencer that other's poetry can be posted to this board. These are the two conditions:
1) When someone posts a known copyrighted poem, he must add the author's name as well
2) If the author is not known, the poem can be posted without problems

Véčet klobu na mloveni
Néni tě dovoleny datlovat do toďteho klobo. Abes mohl datlovat do toďteho klobo, mosiš mit némiň členstvi Brain šiml.

Mód: Každé može datlovat

Okázat névic stary zpráve nédřiv

15. červenca 2004, 23:44:04

Solitude

šecke plke | odkazové plk

O čem je toďten plk: Re: My Life

A great poem Stardust. More More.....

6. červenca 2004, 02:52:57

Solitude

šecke plke | odkazové plk

O čem je toďten plk: When

When the grasshopper ceases to hop and the old cow quits her bawling; When the fish no longer flop and the baby stops squalling; When the dunner no longer duns and the hoot owl stops its hooting; When the rivers even cease to run and the burgler stops his looting; When the vine no longer runs and the sky-lark stops its larking; When the sun no longer shines and the young man quits his sparking; When the heavens begin to drop and the old maids stop advising, then it's time to shut up shop and quit your advertising.

2. červenca 2004, 01:42:19

Solitude

šecke plke | odkazové plk

O čem je toďten plk: The Old Woodshed

By:anorma Sworski

I like to think of our old woodshed,
With its crooked, sagging door,
Where the logs, chopped for the winter,
Lie in heaps upon the floor.

Bark and sawdust for a carpet,
Splinters often found bare toes.
And the switch above the doorway
We used to dust our clothes.

Outside walls showed carved initals
Left by generations past,
Linking hearts in love together,
Sworn throughout the years to last,
Giving to this ancient storehouse,
Leaning slightly to one side,
A stout determinatiion,
Quiet dignity,and pride.

As a tree bent in a windstorm,
Scarred and weathered, yet it stood,
And in my private, happy thoughts still holds
Memories that are warm and good.