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[25 Feb 2008|11:16pm] |
Merlin's beard! My bloody foot is still sore! Thank very much. (p.s. folks that was sarcasm)
I won't even begin to describ what my toes look like, trust me people you really don't want to know. They bloody hurt like hell though. Honestly, how they aren't broken is beyond me.
Alright, I need to stop complaining so much, we all know how I'm not good with dealing pain. Found something some of you might like. I hope you do, because I bloody love this poem. Not to mention, it's a good story.
Alright well forgot how bloody long the Lady of Shalott was, so I don't think I'll post the whole thing, but here's the first three stanzas.
On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And through the field the road run by
To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.
Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Through the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four grey walls, and four grey towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.
By the margin, willow veil'd,
Slide the heavy barges trail'd
By slow horses; and unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
Skimming down to Camelot:
But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shalott?
Enjoy. I can't bloody believe I almost told someone I fancy-
Paisley D. "Very bruised Toes" Howell
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