Post by Ginny Moon on Aug 17, 2008 15:31:08 GMT -7
(A poem written a long time ago. Ten points if you can discover it's meaning without reading the epilogue.)
Valley of green,
Streams of gold,
Mountains of silver
Or black.
A sky the color
Of all the rainbow,
And a night so silent
And dark and alive.
No grass does grow
On the valley of green,
Nor waters flow
In the streams of gold.
No animals play on the
Silver mountains,
Nor do birds fly
Or clouds swim
In the sky the color
Of all the rainbow
And filled with noise,
Is this silent night.
And filled with light,
Is this dark night.
And information fills
This night, tonight.
'Tis day and night
this night, tonight.
That makes things known
for those who see
and hear
The information
Flowing on the
Streams of gold
And through the
Mountains of silver
Or black
Up into a sky
The color of all
The Rainbow
And to the real world
Where we all live
Oblivious to the
Magical Land
Amid the valley
Of green.
(I was trying to fix a Nintendo 64 controller so I could play Zelda, and I was fascinated by the green hard-drive inside of the controller. So I wrote a poem about it. As you can see, it's a little juvenile, but I like it.)
Valley of green,
Streams of gold,
Mountains of silver
Or black.
A sky the color
Of all the rainbow,
And a night so silent
And dark and alive.
No grass does grow
On the valley of green,
Nor waters flow
In the streams of gold.
No animals play on the
Silver mountains,
Nor do birds fly
Or clouds swim
In the sky the color
Of all the rainbow
And filled with noise,
Is this silent night.
And filled with light,
Is this dark night.
And information fills
This night, tonight.
'Tis day and night
this night, tonight.
That makes things known
for those who see
and hear
The information
Flowing on the
Streams of gold
And through the
Mountains of silver
Or black
Up into a sky
The color of all
The Rainbow
And to the real world
Where we all live
Oblivious to the
Magical Land
Amid the valley
Of green.
(I was trying to fix a Nintendo 64 controller so I could play Zelda, and I was fascinated by the green hard-drive inside of the controller. So I wrote a poem about it. As you can see, it's a little juvenile, but I like it.)
