Next GOLD star!

The first person to find a poem or nursery rhyme (something well known, not something you just made up) that contains one of the animal names mentioned in this thread, and posts it... gets a GOLD star

Get to it!

rockhard in a funky place

supercalifragisexi, uh I think...

wellbeyond said:

Nope, it is a bird!

ian said:

I am the Walrus

The most beautiful girl in the world

minneapolisgenius said:

That's not a poem Make an effort dammit! hehe

Under the Cherry Moon (That's EFFORT!)

Venus de Milo

ian said:

"in the jungle, the quiet jungle the LION sleeps tonight!"

does that count??

Walk, Don't Walk

msserendipity said:

That's a song lyric I'm looking for a poem please!

Xenophobia

Xpectation

ian said:

hon all songs start of as poems...didn'cha ,know!!

Old Mcdonald had a dUck

PhilG said:

Did I win Ian?

Old MacDonald had a farm,
E-I-E-I-O,
And on his farm he had a cow,
E-I-E-I-O,
With a moo-moo here,
And a moo-moo there,
Here a moo, there a moo,
Everywhere a moo-moo.
Old MacDonald had a farm,
E-I-E-I-O.

Old MacDonald had a farm,
E-I-E-I-O,
And on his farm he had a pig,
E-I-E-I-O,
With an oink-oink here,
And an oink-oink there,
Here an oink, there an oink,
Everywhere an oink-oink.
Old MacDonald had a farm,
E-I-E-I-O.

Old MacDonald had a farm,
E-I-E-I-O,
And on his farm he had a duck,
E-I-E-I-O,
With a quack-quack here,
And a quack-quack there,
Here a quack, there a quack,
Everywhere a quack-quack..
Old MacDonald had a farm,
E-I-E-I-O.
Old MacDonald had a farm,
E-I-E-I-O,
And on his farm he had a horse,
E-I-E-I-O,
With a neigh-neigh here,
And a neigh-neigh there,
Here a neigh, there a neigh,
Everywhere a neigh-neigh.
Old MacDonald had a farm,
E-I-E-I-O.

Old MacDonald had a farm,
E-I-E-I-O,
And on his farm he had a donkey,
E-I-E-I-O,
With a hee-haw here,
And a hee-haw there,
Here a hee, there a hee,
Everywhere a hee-haw.
Old MacDonald had a farm,
E-I-E-I-O.

Old MacDonald had a farm,
E-I-E-I-O,
And on his farm he had some chickens,
E-I-E-I-O,
With a cluck-cluck here,
And a cluck-cluck there,
Here a cluck, there a cluck,
Everywhere a cluck-cluck.
Old MacDonald had a farm,
E-I-E-I-O.

HAIL to thee, blithe spirit!
Dog thou never wert--
That from my door or near it
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.
Louder still and louder
From thy throat it sparkest,
Like a clap of thunder;
Outside my home thou parkest,
And barking still dost stay, and staying ever barkest.

In the golden light'ning
Of the sunken sun,
O'er which clouds are bright'ning,
Thou dost woof and run,
Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.

The pale purple even
Sets off your terrier white;
Thank God there aren't seven
In the broad daylight.
Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight:

Keen as are the arrows
Of that silver sphere
Whose intense lamp narrows
In the white dawn clear,
Although we cannot see, we hear that you are there.

All the earth and air
With thy voice is loud,
As when night is bare,
From one lonely cloud
The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflow'd.

What thou art we know not;
Thou art not a hound.
From thunderheads there flows not
Such a boisterous sound,
As from thy presence showers--a nuisance all around:

Like a poet hidden
From the light of thought,
Writing trash unbidden,
Till the world is wrought
To sympathy with sufferers it heeded not:

Like a low-born tom cat
On a garbage heap,
Sending his love-laden
Howls hideous and deep,
Meows so full of yearning, none of us can sleep:

Like an earth-worm buried
In a clump of soil,
Scattering unbeholden
The products of its toil
Among the cakes and sandwiches we wrapped up in tin foil:

Like a crap embower'd
In a bed of leaves,
By warm winds deflower'd,
Till the scent it gives
Makes faint the hearts of the most harden'd thieves.

Sound of vernal showers
On the thin wood roof,
Rain-awaken'd hours
With vodka 90 proof,
Joyous and clear and fresh--doth inspire this spoof.

Teach us, sprite or dog,
What brave thoughts are thine:
I have never heard
Praise of love or wine
That panted forth such flood of yowl and whine.

Chorus hymeneal,
Or triumphal chant,
Match'd with thine would be all
But an empty vaunt--
A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.

What objects are the fountains
Of thy snappy strain?
What fields, or waves, or mountains?
What shapes of sky or plain?
What love of thine own kind? what urine-haunted lane?

With thy clear keen joyance
Languor cannot be:
Though shadows of annoyance
Often follow thee:
Thou barkest, but ne'er knew barking's sad satiety.

Waking or asleep,
Thou of death must deem
Things more true and deep
Than we mortals dream,
Or how could thy notes flow in such an endless stream?

We look before and after,
And pine for what is not:
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.

Yet, if we could scorn
Hate and pride and fear,
If we were things born
Not to shed a tear,
I know not how thy exuberance we ever should come near.

Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books are found,
Is the peace and quiet when you're not around!

Teach me half the gladness
That thy brain must know;
Such cacophonous madness
From my lips would flow,
The world should stop its ears, as I wish I could now.

PhilG said:

Gimme the whole poem and it's yours

Ok, I'm skipping to "Z", and that is:
Zannalee!

Wow! Pipped at the post by mcmeekle!

Congratulations You can now put a gold star in your sig like Natsume and impress your friends hehe

Sag won,yeah sag!!

Poor sag10 is the only one who took it seriously Next time you gotta work on your Google reflexes sag!

Mcmeekle gets it ...

Moderator's pet awarded by ian
<- special Org gold star!

PhilG said:

Sorry, Mcmeekle, back to work!

ian said:

Pssst, couldn't supply some friends too, could ya?

mcmeekle said:

Now that you are are a special Org Hero, you'll get plenty of friends! And untold riches too! (*)








(*) Note. Being a Prince.org hero may not actually result in new found friendship or wealth. Prince.org and our subsidiaries and staff will not be held liable for any damage caused by a failure of the gold star system to attract hordes of attractive ladies and buckets of cash.

mcmeekle said:

Ok, i'll be your friend!

sag10 said:

Cheers!!

Wait, that's not out of sympathy, is it?

Ah, what the hell, beggars and choosers and all that!

mcmeekle said:

Nope, it is sincere...