Jesse
Well-known member
- Joined
- Jun 4, 2009
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Sparkling little eyes above cute dimples
and a big cheesy smile; horns and a tale
on a man quite vile. In a little while,
Walter, the white walking stick, watches
with whimsical wonderfullness.
Gleefully giggling they skip along together.
Jolly and joyful, the merrymaking begins.
Animals and children, women and men-
everybody dances round the fiery blaze.
Amazed is Walter, the white walking stick.
How he too wishes to dance, even if he does
look like a plant!
Swirling colors of running paint, the canvas
of life melts into one. Where once were many,
now there are none. All together the paint has
run, even where once, was painted rum.
Beginning anew, the world blooms. Flowers and
trees, grass and mushrooms. Soon a piece of a
tree begins to move, Walter, the white walking
stick, walks with a groove.
"The world is back!", he says with a smile-
all the while walking and walking, all 'round
the isle. The isle of mystery, where magic
walks with men. Every inch of the isle, Walter
has been. Even the lion's pit and the big Ogre's
den.
He's a brave little fellow, he could never be
called yellow. A bellow, a call, a loud cawing
sound. The mighty Rokh swoops in to take Walter
away to its nest. Silly pest, this walking stick
can't be eaten. Go away before you get beaten-
by the king of this isle!
Walter rises up and waves his hand! Mystically
appearing, two brigands! Men with bows and a deadly aim,
they point their arrows and loose them for fame. The
mighty rokh dodges them twain. "Insane!", says Walter,
"Do not falter! The beast is getting closer!"
Yet before the tasty treat enters his beak, the
world morphs into swirls and streaks. Soon
again an adventure will begin, with Walter, the
white walking stick and his big toothy grin.
and a big cheesy smile; horns and a tale
on a man quite vile. In a little while,
Walter, the white walking stick, watches
with whimsical wonderfullness.
Gleefully giggling they skip along together.
Jolly and joyful, the merrymaking begins.
Animals and children, women and men-
everybody dances round the fiery blaze.
Amazed is Walter, the white walking stick.
How he too wishes to dance, even if he does
look like a plant!
Swirling colors of running paint, the canvas
of life melts into one. Where once were many,
now there are none. All together the paint has
run, even where once, was painted rum.
Beginning anew, the world blooms. Flowers and
trees, grass and mushrooms. Soon a piece of a
tree begins to move, Walter, the white walking
stick, walks with a groove.
"The world is back!", he says with a smile-
all the while walking and walking, all 'round
the isle. The isle of mystery, where magic
walks with men. Every inch of the isle, Walter
has been. Even the lion's pit and the big Ogre's
den.
He's a brave little fellow, he could never be
called yellow. A bellow, a call, a loud cawing
sound. The mighty Rokh swoops in to take Walter
away to its nest. Silly pest, this walking stick
can't be eaten. Go away before you get beaten-
by the king of this isle!
Walter rises up and waves his hand! Mystically
appearing, two brigands! Men with bows and a deadly aim,
they point their arrows and loose them for fame. The
mighty rokh dodges them twain. "Insane!", says Walter,
"Do not falter! The beast is getting closer!"
Yet before the tasty treat enters his beak, the
world morphs into swirls and streaks. Soon
again an adventure will begin, with Walter, the
white walking stick and his big toothy grin.
