Thursday, December 04, 2003

Tonight's Computer Written Verse From Poetry CreatOR 2

So, scoff not, thou ticklish fiend
Fetched like this bone,
That the fair dog gripped in his teeth.
Solstice hunted, but did not find thee,
Tossed and turned, his lustful eye useless,
For, as ever, thy beak had taken its toll.

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