The was a little village far in the country
Where people lived peacefully and chores were sundry
There was a pretty maiden called Athena
And a young lad called Tim who worked in the foundry
One day Athena went to the village fair
The wind was huffing and puffing through her dark brown hair
She went to the blacksmith and asked for a pair of tongs
Tim stood up mesmerized and uttered with flair
There you go milady, these are an excellent pair
No more do you need to take the bread off the fire in sheer despair
Thank you sir, she said, here is your two shillings
I hope they are as good as you say here
It was meant to be, they often met at the village fair
Eyes met, smiles were shared, and salutations were in the air
One day, on a cloudy day the maiden went to the witchdoctor
Her father was ill and she was in despair
You must get the potion from the sacred village
You must be careful and avoid any spillage
You must cross the forest in the night
The forest is not for the weak and you must show courage
Meanwhile the foundry closed down
And Tim was on his way to leave town
He met Athena on her way to the forest
She was limping on the pebbles, dust crowded her pretty gown
To be continued….
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
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Warning: Radioactive Content !!!
Statutory Warning : The content on this blog may appear inappropriate to some users and is highly toxic in nature. Prolonged exposure to the content may cause severe deficiency in the Medulla Oblongata of humans. The author has no responsibility for any national, organizational or personal losses that may occur to the reader after reading this blog.
The posts are chaotic in nature and reflect the moods of the author who is an eccentric person.
The posts are chaotic in nature and reflect the moods of the author who is an eccentric person.
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