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I baked alone
Amidst ideas overgrown,
And my mind was a throbbing ache,
'Till the great and wondrous thought I did bake--
'Till the croissant-adorned idea I did bake.
Ah, less--less innovative
Any other perogative
Than the structure of the simple idea!
And
never a thought
That ever was wrought
In the mind of a baker before,
Can compete with the thing that my brain now stores--
Can contend with this idea my brain now stores.
Now po--now bliss
Both have me dismissed
For to my annotations they will not reply,
And all my time
I cry and whine
While ever to my idea I always think--
For though I did like it, it turned out to stink.
Eulalie
http://www.geocitie...r/4220/eulalie.html
The original poem, by Edgar Allen Poe. Sorry, Ed! [Pseudonym #3, Mar 30 2002, last modified Mar 31 2002]
Whinge
http://www.m-w.com/...n/dictionary?whinge
12th century, according to Merriam-Webster. [bookworm, Mar 30 2002]
[link]
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PseuD. I really think the song sub-category is sufficient. will you stop whinging now. |
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I officially nominate this as a new word. |
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As for whining, I shall only stop once everyone acknowledges my true godliness. |
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It's been a word for quite some time now. |
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we prefer bakers with feet of clay. |
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Ah, forgive my limited vocabulary. |
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little charmer, will go far! |
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Alas, my lack of knowledge about the actual poem has betrayed me. But thanks for telling me that, and saving me from any further show of idiocy. |
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