(With apologies to Coleridge)

In Callahan's did Patron Bones
    A wish for poetry decree:
Where RIP was being overrun
With verbal battles lost and won,
    He mourned the loss of beauty.

So posted he a question grand,
"What happened to the poetry strand?
"Where are the artists who inspired great thought,
"Who wrote of things so meaningful to me?"
And here were poems oh, so carefully wrought,
Emotions opened up for all to see.

And oh! there were cathartic poems which ranted
And raged against the frailties of living!
And fantasies! with which we were enchanted
As 'neath the surface reveries decanted
By poets opening up themselves and giving!
And from this thread, diversity came pouring,
As if we all our poems had been storing,
A mighty fountain burst free from our souls,
And rained a rain of wishes, hurts, and goals.
The mighty poets searched and found their Muse,
And wrote their words to dazzle and bemuse:
And 'mid this proof that hard hearts were still beating,
Came wondrous answers to our Bones entreating.
Our pain and anguish flowed out with the tide,
Our hopes and dreams spread out upon the table,
We opened up as best as we were able
In hopes that Bones would, for a time, abide:
And 'mid this tumult, lively as a riot,
We waited patiently, as Bones was quiet!

    A shadow cast upon our pleasure
    Writhed 'mid rays of midday sun;
    We wait for Bones to take our measure,
    To hear him say, "Well done! Well done!"

Here is a miracle of rare design,
Inspired, we wrote line after line!

    A patron pleaded his request
    In a posting once I read:
    It was a demoralized man,
    And, in his post, he took a stand,
    Speaking of the poetry thread.
    Did we revive within him
    Rejoicing and delight?
    'Twould be a wondrous sight,
    Inspire me to search my soul,
    To think, to write
    Of castles floating in the air,
    Of forests shaded leafy green!
    And all who read would see them there,
    Would see my thoughts both dark and fair!
    Escape RIP's theme of au contraire.
    Weave the circle 'round me thrice,
    And I, responding with a rhyme,
    Shall etch my thoughts deep into time,
    In Callahans, a Paradise.

-- Nikki (LUNANIK) May 10, 2004