Thursday, February 27, 2014

MC: The Epic Poem, Part 1

we toiled away the daylight,
figuring out what to do,
so I dug a tiny hole
when monsters rose with the moon.

when the sun came with the dawn,
we were trucking well along:
the hole was growing wide and deep--
a place to live and a place to keep.

you found iron while I made rooms,
harvested wool, wood for looms;
laid down beds side-by-side
in the attic way up high.

sinceways we've been digging
hollowing space for farms;
first wheat, then timber,
reducing starving alarms.

next I'll do sugarcane,
make paper from the pulp;
we'll have a library in our hole,
with tables to learn and sup.

--
Part 2 is forthcoming.

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