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| The intention was to make this crockery a bit chintzy but I have to say I quite like this pattern, oops. |
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| Slight problem with this version, well several actually. Can't get the glass to throw a shadow, can't get my crummy laptop to process it at a decent resolution and there are some quirky looking artefacts on on the high lights of the glass.. |
The garden that is never home to thorn
No thumb be pricked no tender flesh torn
The domain of wit and urbane repose
The vulgar 'n' the crude they will dispose
Here there will be no sheep that need be shorn
Will the world ever know that they were born
It's the fate of many I would suppose
Second draft
Reworked it into a sonnet (sort of - the clauses are too short) and changed the emphasis
The place where there will always be a rose
May you run risk of prick from briar or thorn
No thumb be prick'd yet tender flesh torn
The domain of wit and urbane repose
A vista crafted without spades or hoes
Here there will be no sheep that need be shorn
Will the world ever know that they were born
It's the fate of many I do suppose
For those who may find it too hard to fit
Will be directed to a large neatly tended
Quarter for discarded, the compost pit
Where weed and dross you will find are heaped
So high and weighty the earth be split
Third draft
Woah, the lesson illustrated above is that it's easier to write verse while drunk than with a hangover. This should be an improvement I hope.
The place where there will always be a rose
May you run risk of prick from briar or thorn
No thumb be prick'd yet tender flesh be torn
The domain of wit and urbane repose
This garden were crafted sans spade and hoes
Here there will be no sheep that need be shorn
Will the world ever know that they were born
It's the fate of many I do suppose
For those who may find it too hard to fit
I direct you to a neatly tended
Discarded quarter, compost in the pit
There be weed and dross in heap ascended
So high and weighty the earth be split
Fourth draft
Can something be 'tended' and 'discarded' at the same time? mmm probably not. Not so sure about this change, I like a bit of paradox occasionally.
The place where there will always be a rose
May you run risk of prick from briar or thorn
No thumb be prick'd yet tender flesh be torn
The domain of wit and urbane repose
This garden were crafted sans spade and hoes
Here there will be no sheep that need be shorn
Will the world ever know that they were born
It's the fate of many I do suppose
For those who may find it too hard to fit
I direct you to a neatly tended
Quarter for discarded compost in the pit
There weed and dross be in heap ascended
So high and weighty the earth be split
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