Go to Volume 1

Go back to Volume 6

Go to the event.

Check out the poem titles.

I'm truly enjoying the challenge of writing these. I love wordplay so much and I don’t think I’ve ever challenged my rhyming skills this hard. I'm really trying not to Google word rhymes, but sometimes it’s necessary with words that have a lot of them. Especially for the titles.

Also, you’ll notice if you check out the titles, that I’ve added spells as a card type. I don’t plan to implement them just yet, but I'm speculating on future improvements to the game.

Another thing you’ll notice as you read these, is that I'm trying to connect them in ways….[[|:-)

The Mega-Suss Pegasus

The mega-suss pegasus,

Will take the blame without a fuss,

She’s wanted now for stealing a bus,

Arrested next and punished thus.

She has a nasty gleam in her eye,

She’ll make you think she did it; she’ll try,

Maybe that was her up in the sky,

But in reality, she can’t even fly.

They clipped her wings last time in jail,

She cried and wept with a terrible wail,

You might think she’s weak and frail,

But her alibi will pass without fail.

The Rocket-Shipped Chocolate Chip

The rocket-shipped chocolate chip,

So good the pilot took a nip,

So big they used a rocket ship,

To take it on its final trip.

Crafted by expert chocolatiers,

It took seven months and two years,

It required blood, sweat, and tears,

It cooled and set despite their fears.

Made for The Compliant Giant,

Off with a fiery zoom it went,

The rocket crashed with a big dent,

And never was the big chip sent.

The Hexagon Lexicon

The hexagon lexicon,

Equal on all sides; not long,

A strange textbook, you’re not wrong,

Held shut by a hook and prong.

Written long ago; author unknown,

It’s stained and musty; mold overgrown,

It’s a rickety, fragile, old tome,

Found in The Nil-Pride Gnome Hillside Home.

Most pages are too worn to read,

Spine held together with flax tweed,

The gnome holds onto it with greed,

Alas, its hope is to be freed.

The Plaster-Board Bastard Sword

The plaster-board bastard sword,

From The Filed-and-Stored Highland Fjord,

It was catalogued, filed, and stored,

For the Ever-Bored Nether Lord.

It’s not a good weapon for combat,

It won’t even injure a wombat,

Once stolen by a feral tomcat,

Saved by The Macro-Hat Acrobat.

She returned it without a blunder,

Still, its purpose will make you wonder,

It won’t slay enemies asunder,

Not even worth the risk of plunder.

The Macro-Hat Acrobat

The Macro-Hat Acrobat,

Dwarfed by her giant, floppy hat,

It does protect her in combat,

But it’s not for flying tricks that.

It’s purple and has a wide brim,

She often dons it on a whim,

Although she can’t use it to swim,

She put filigree on its trim.

When she camps, it’s a sleeping bag,

Napping bed and a drying rag,

It’s not a boast, but she will brag,

It’s worthy of being a flag.

Go to Volume 8

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Thank you so much for reading. Please like, comment, and share. I hope you have a wonderful day….[[|:-)