poemranker ::Fillamayer! by smiffy84

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Free verse № 127735

Fillamayer!

by smiffy84

Member since 2005 · Posted 23 Jun 2005 · 3 comments

All hail, Fillamayer! Legendary Dragon slayer Tall tales and storytellers King of all is Fillamayer! Tales of adventure, vanquished foes Devouring maidens in passion’s throes Fillamayer! All where he roams Makes sure, he, his story is told Dragon slain! And in his lair Where he now rots, his treasure there Riches seen, beyond compare Fillamayer! He knows no fear Fillamayer! Where is this treasure? So immense it defies measure? Why not take, for your own pleasure A coin, a scale, a Dragon feather? Go, now, Fillamayer! Storeyed jester, fable maker No more you a Dragon slayer Than you clairvoyant be, damned liar! Dragons may as well pigs be Your stories draw no love from me No admiration shall you see Go slay more dragons, leave me be

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mean 4.33 weighted 4.92 rank 9443 views 165 View voting details →

3 votes so far. Yours would make 4.3 votes so far

3 comments

[3] Bankrupt_Word_Clerk 23-Jun-05/11:43 AM Reply
when people move their verbs to accomodate a rhyme. I of Yoda think.
[n/a] smiffy84 › Bankrupt_Word_Clerk 26-Jun-05/4:12 AM Reply
I know what you mean, and I do try to avoid messing with the structure of sentences as much as I can, but pobody's nerfect, and besides, if Shakespeare didn't see a problem with it, who am I to argue with him?
[10] zodiac 26-Jun-05/3:10 AM Reply
Not bad. But the best poemranker lay in the olden style is still this one:

THE LAY OF KING BUMBLEMEAT

Whither the meatly hats of yesterlunch?
Whither the sausage helmets, the hammy porkpies, the berets
Shimm'ring in sunlight, so meatly,
All smelling sweetly
Of honey and jelly-glaze?

Whither King Bumfirst's hamhock, that bunched
So gloriously on his ears as he rode that day
Swinging his wet truncheon:
To luncheon! To luncheon!
So awfully, so embarassingly gay?

Alas! No more the meat! Alas! No more those hats!
The ham-fedoras flapping their silly brims among the leaves
Of Bumwood! Lost completely
Are those bright helms, so meatly,
Collapsed with somewhat sickly splats
On the tops of our Wellingtons (Beeves).