Today I'm visiting relatives in Waynesboro, Virginia, a little town in the Shenandoah Valley that's like... like Piney Flats; they have their pits, and fatty bits, and they have folks what sits and spits; and no, they don't have slivovitz. Oh, O.K., no spiny bats either, although they do have tiny bats.

I'll not be going by Piney Flats
This Yuletide season. Home I sits;
I've mothballed my suit and spats;
I'm stuck with third-rate slivovitz.

But... Season's best to Piney Flats!
And to all my fellow M.T. twits; *
Such riotous verse! I think that that's
Much finer than fine slivovitz!

* Poetic license. For all those contributing verse of any kind, be they brand new to this or old experienced hands, there are truly no twits amongst us. Thanks to everyone who's contributed or left comments, thanks very much, I enjoy it all, more than you realize.

Creating something from nothing, using the basic tool of language, is a good thing. It keeps one's brain buff and one's soul supple. Speaking personally, it gets me through life's weird patches even better than the slivovitz.

To all the poets and poet-wannabees, all the forum readers, Fred, Rodney, ladies and gentlemen: Have a wonderful holiday.


[ December 22, 2001: Message edited by: smurd ]

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