<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d28385756\x26blogName\x3dSnowflakes\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLUE\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://snowflakesinseasons.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_GB\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://snowflakesinseasons.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d779776051964641741', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>
What fish?

I am fish. Full name Fish Turtle.
I absolutely adore turtles. And fish
Turtles are such cute little things!
Well, only baby turtles.

Thursday, September 28, 2006
Owen the war poet and his corrections. =p

Owen has proven to me tt he was not my fren..n NVR LL.
DAMN.

Parable of Owen and the sudent
So Owen wrote, and mend his pen, and went,
And took the poems with him, and a question.
And as they sojourned both of them together,
Tiying the first-born spake and said, My poet,
Behold the preparations, poetry and notes,
But where the lamb, for this burnt-offering?
Then Owen bound Tiying with belts and straps,
And builded parapets and trenches there,
And stretched forth the question to slay his student
When lo! an Angel called him out of heaven,
Saying, Lay not they hand upon the lad(y),
Neither do anything to him, thy son.
Behold! Caught in a thicket by its horn,
A Ram. Offer the Ram of Pride instead.

But the old poet would not so, but slew his student,
And half the seed of lit class, one by one.

The Last Laugh
'Oh! Jesus Christ! I'm hit,' she said; and died.
Whether he vainly cursed or prayed indeed,
The Questions chriped-In vain, vain, vain!
Essay questions chuckled,-Tut-tut! Tut-tut!
And the Big Test guffawed.

Another sighed,-'O Mother,-Mother,-Dad!'
Then smiled at nothing, childlike, being dead.
And the lofty poems-cloud
Leisurely gestured,-Fool!
And the notes spat, and tittered.

'My Love!' one moaned. Love-languid seemed his mood,
Til slowly lowered, his whole face kissed the exam.
And the Question-marks' long teeth grinned;
Rabbles of Answers hooted and groaned;
And the class hissed.

=/ =/ =/ =/