Hmm... well here is a poem for Bryony. It makes hardly any sense. Don't know if you'll like it. *curses self doubt* But here you are! Enjoy!
That Which We Call A Rose By Any Other Name Would Be Just As Random And Frankly Peculiar As Bryony
A wonderfully eccentric girl
Only slightly, she claims
But no one’s as random, the whole world knows
As The All Singing, All Dancing, Bryony Rose
She once was a mango
She’s obsessed with Severus Snape
But she always was crazy and odd, I suppose
Was The All Singing, All Dancing, Bryony Rose
She looks fairly normal
She’s got eyes and a nose
And a mouth and some fingers, and even some toes
Has The All Singing All Dancing, Bryony Rose
But don’t let it fool you,
She’s as mad as can be,
So whatever you do, don’t presuppose
With The All Singing, All Dancing Bryony Rose
For although she’s insane
And has no taste in hats
She is good at breathing, and there are other pros
To The All Singing, All Dancing Bryony Rose
She always seems happy,
With her face in a grin
She just doesn’t have woes
Not The All Singing All Dancing Bryony Rose
And she knows how to eat
Though she tries eating plates
And she also wears clothes
Does The All Singing, All Dancing Bryony Rose
Can she fly? Can she whistle?
Can she speak Ancient Greek?
Is she friends with the crows?
The All Singing, All Dancing Bryony Rose?
She may be controlled by the weather
The sun and the rain
And the wind and the snows
Rule The All Singing, All Dancing, Bryony Rose
And she knows how to talk
How to read and to write
She knows how it goes
Does The All Singing, All Dancing Bryony Rose
And the questions she thinks of!
That can’t really be a fish you’re standing on, can it?
And an answer arose
For The All Singing, All Dancing, Bryony Rose.
For the nonsensically minded (and I am one of those)
Any sense in these words I shall try to dispose
Just revel in the marvellous words (not the prose)
‘Bout The All Singing, All Dancing, Bryony Rose
FANTASTIC OCTA! THIS IS FANTASTIC!
ReplyDeleteBRILLIANT!
I LOVE IT!
THIS IS SUPERSPECIALCHOCOLATEYFUDGECOATEDAWESOME!
ReplyDeleteSHE'LL LOVE IT! THIS IS GENIUS!
EPICA!
BRILLIANT!
AWESOMESAUCE!
XD
OCTABOONA! THAT WAS POSSIBLY THE MOST AMAZING POEM I HAVE EVER READ, EVEN THOUGH I AM SLIGHTLY OFFENDED THAT YOU THINK SO LITTLE OF MY AMAZING FASHION SENSE, ESPECIALLY HATS! I AM TYPING IN CAPITALS TO SHOW HOW ANGRY I AM.
ReplyDeleteBUT APART FROM THAT...EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That is all.
You do have a taste in hats?
ReplyDeleteAh it must be me who doesn't have the taste in hats then.
:P
Also, how do you know I have a mouth and a nose? And a mouth, some fingers and some toes? And that I wear clothes?
ReplyDelete....
Stalker...
Well I actually picked up that info from Quinn.
ReplyDeleteShe does mention you sometimes you know :P
Does she? *cowers in a corner*
ReplyDeleteI DENY EVERYTHING!!!!!
So you don't have a nose? Or toes? You don't wear clothes?
ReplyDeleteOnly on Thursdays. And I speak Ancient Greek over the weekend. I'm still working on the flying though - I can't seem to get distracted enough to fail to miss the ground...And because I'm really trying, I fail to miss the ground pretty hard.
ReplyDeleteAh.
ReplyDeleteWell if Arthur Dent can fly I'm sure you'll manage too.
He manages it in his dressing gown. I'm sure my impeccable taste in hats will pursuade the Great Prophet Zarquon to distract gravity long enough for me to get off the ground.
ReplyDeleteOr else I have the recipe for a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster somewhere...
ReplyDeleteThat should be distracting enough no?
Just make sure you put the olive in. Missing the olive out of a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster would be like dividing by 0 - Don't. Do. It.
ReplyDelete*prepares Bryony one Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster with the olive in it*
ReplyDeleteNow don't think about flying and jump off that random cliff!
*runs at cliff* WAIT A SECOND! I appear to have turned into a penguin.
ReplyDeleteI know I'm perfectly safe, but the problem is that I am now a perfectly safe penguin, and Quinn seems to be rapidly running out of limbs!
Hmm....
ReplyDeleteWe must have been in the Heart of Gold...
I wonder how we got there?
Well, there is the Infinate Improbability Drive...Oh, I'm no longer a penguin. Probability factor of one to one. We have normality. I repeat, we have normality. Anything you still can't cope with is therefore your own problem.
ReplyDelete*sighs*
ReplyDeleteSo those monkey's with a script for Hamlet are still my own problem?
That sucks...
It's ok. 'Cos, y'know, when people see you walking fown the street, they say "Hey, you sass that hoopy Octaboona Ambrosius? There's a frood who really knows where his towel is."
ReplyDeleteHmm...
ReplyDeleteNo one's told me that since I was a bowl of petunias falling towards the surface of Magrathea.
No kidding?! I was the whale you landed on! What were you thinking as you fell? I was having troubly coming to terms with my existance as a whale:
ReplyDelete"Ahhh! Woooh! What's happening? Who am I? Why am I here? What's my purpose in life? What do I mean by who am I? Okay okay, calm down calm down get a grip now. Ooh, this is an interesting sensation. What is it? Its a sort of tingling in my... well I suppose I better start finding names for things. Lets call it a... tail! Yeah! Tail! And hey, what's this roaring sound, whooshing past what I'm suddenly gonna call my head? Wind! Is that a good name? It'll do. Yeah, this is really exciting. I'm dizzy with anticipation! Or is it the wind? There's an awful lot of that now isn't it? And what's this thing coming toward me very fast? So big and flat and round, it needs a big wide sounding name like 'Ow', 'Ownge', 'Round', 'Ground'! That's it! Ground! Ha! I wonder if it'll be friends with me? Hello Ground!"
Ah. All I thought was "Oh no, not again!"
ReplyDeleteHmm. I happened to see a very smug looking Arthur Dent in a flashy looking spaceship as I was falling. Maybe you should go find him. Somwhere dramatic, like...The Cathedral of Hate!
ReplyDeleteSuch a brilliant poem Octa! Really wonderful.
ReplyDelete*applauds*