Poorly fares the noble Tau
As he looks back on March
And happily remembers how
How good it was
With enough in the way
Of victories
In the shortened month
That he thought he had a handle
On how the game is won
Only now he's not so certain
As he's not faring so well
In the first two days
Of April no
Though it must be said
That at least he didn't lose
In back to to back days
And didn't fall
From the goodly heights
Of the greatest game
But ever played
In the short good history
Of exciting Uhme
To a distant last
Which wasn't as near as distant
As that of Tau
That sad day ago
When he lost
By a terrible score
Of something more
Than embarrassing yes
So I'll be kind to Tau
And not but share
The difference no
Because it's bad enough
That the players know this truth
For all of you to know as well
And though he could not win
And was left in a tie for second
He neatly rebounded
To have himself a chance
At winning his first
In the first full month
Of games to be played
Yes I know
All this talk
Of two who did not win
When it was Gamma who did
And finally won his first
As he just lay on the playing floor
Stunned to have won
And anxious to play again
Because he now but thinks
He can go on a run
And be the dominant player
Crushing all who oppose him yes
Now the odds of that
Are slim indeed
As it's hard to maintain
Like any flow
For you never know
What you'll draw to yourself
Though there is a little thought
It's heavily affected
By what you draw indeed
So yes he needs
To settle down
As he's just whooping and hollering
Like some damn fool
After a single win
In all these games
As sometimes a single win
Is all you can get
For a sad long time
But he's so dang happy
I'll let him have this for now
And if he doesn't calm down
Come the afternoon
I'l drop the hammer
And make him cry
Because by then I'll be
Yes rightly peeved with him
As for me
I'm feeling the flow
And am happy yes
That I was able to rock the rhyme
For the first good time
That The Able Peach Report
Was dropped upon the waiting eyes
Of my grateful readers
At least that is how
I'm telling the story
Because I'm closer to glory
With my efforts at happs.tv
Than I am with those
At that of my own little site
Though it goes without saying
That I've spent way more time
On happs of late
Than at october-lake.com
So it only makes sense
And now we'll see
If the goodly little lake
Can rise beyond its place
And at least but lap at the feet
Of the Happstastic Petrie
Which is me of course
Feeling my tasticality
For there's no fan to it
Just a little bit
Of happiness eh
Sadly
What I'm writing
Has nothing to do
With my hero peach
Who finally has himself a bod
Like that of a god
As hte lot of them
Have been physically imposing
And I can only imagine
That whichever one
He ends up with
Throwing down with him
Ain't a gonna be
No walk in the park
Nor is it the story
Poetically told of course
Of the poet and his character
Borne of four simple lines
Of his own writing
Though he'd never done anything with it since
Not to mention how he'd left him
As of that single writing
Was in no good place
To be what he was now
The game is done
And it was once again won
So he should be feeling
Naught but joy
But the game is over
And now he must go
A full whole day
Without the joy
Of playing eh
And that feels like forever
Even though it surely isn't
Q1
I should do some writing now
Like shouldn't I yes
As that is the thing
That I do but every day
That I am blessed
To be drawing breath
And as I write that
My cheeky side
Wants to go
And draw me some breath
But my skills are not at the point
Where I am down for this
Wait wait wait
I have skills
Is that my truth
Or just a tale
I tell myself
To feel but better
About where I am
In my little life
That I am trying yes
To make just a little bigger
Which was hard before
You know what
Which we'll still be dealing with
A year from now
Just like making my life
That much bigger
Is gonna be
More of the same
I say with a certainty
Because this is me
But even if it wasn't
Would it change to the good
Maybe I'm just not meant
For that little much more
Like I've had before
Just not to the extent
That others know
And I'm back
Yeah I was away
Working on the site
october-lake.com
As I need to clean it up
Like I'm mowing the lawn
Because the grass is too damn long
Which in this case
Is so many categories
On the site
And even if
I only hang my hat here
For five good years
In those five
If I do not tidy up
It will be stupidly crowded
But it will not happen
Yes overnight
Because the most important thing
Is to keep on writing
Ideally keeping up
With the daily harvest
From April on
With my blessing to you
To get on me
if I should slip but off the wagon again
And not keep providing to you
What you've come to expect from me
Okay okay
After all these months
Of nothing given
Your expectations
Have gotta be low
If you have but any now
But I can try and raise them yes
With constant effort
Or not because
It's been too long
And you've written me off
As is your right of course
But you're still here
So there is but that
Plus the fact
That I'm doing this for me as well
And not just for
The subs and comments
Though that'd be nice indeed
I'm giving you things to read
And the plan but is
To give you more of the same
Wherever I'll be
When I make success
My proper address
Bercause that'd be a sweet good place to live
So if you've seen my harvest today
As I sit in the third
And there's a lack
Of the goodly word
Compared to yesterday yes
That's much to do
With the lack of any writing
In the second yes
Which happens eh
As I do not write
In prose or rhyme
Each and every time
That a quarter comes around
Though I have my share of days
Where I surely do
And for when I don't
The usual fall
Is only down to three
Which will be the case today
As for winning the day that is
I'd love to say
That this is what I'll do
And having gained my way
Past the harvest of a field
I've a better chance
Because I'll only need to harvest
17 rows
Instead of 21
Or whatever the number will be
When I bring this quarter's writing
To it natural end
Which is coming round of course
And with two counts counted
17 rows felled
By my goodly poet's blade
As ever named
Sweet Baevalon
Is pretty spot on
As I counted 12 long rows
Which will only be addded to
As I continue to write
Towards the quarter's end
Though I could stop right now
And not be counted out
I have no doubt
That even a hundred from now
Would increase my odds
Because that's how math but works
Though soon enough
I'll be needing to get myself ready
Because it's Friday yeah
And Friday means 'Za
Hip hip hoorah
For every Friday I can
It'll be Pizza man
But then I remember
That I had to have a talk with myself
And take it off the menu
Because that's a thing
That I have to do
For I dunno
How sadly long
But I dunno either
If I can be strong
And still not have
More 'Za again
In any event
The quarter's up
And I do have to go
But I'll be back
And hopefully give you cause
To comment on what I've written
Because you've been bit
By the comment bug
Q3
I held but fast
And made of this
A 'Za free day
Not that it was what I wanted
Just that it was needed
For once but more
I do no know
How sadly long
That it will be
For this to be the case
But thanks to Tim's
And the kindness of family
Who carded the cost
In the form of a card
Just in case
My language was
Too but hard
To otherwise understand
I had a joyful bit of sup
With a tasty little sandwich
Of bacon lettuce tomato
Which is oh so yum
Now to be certain sure
It ain't no 'Za
Which even in my adult years
Hasn't been the regular Friday meal
But more than it was
In my years of growing up
Because that was the rarest of treats
That nevertheless
Made an impact on me
And gave it cause
To be among the most important meals
That I happily have
When I can of course
Tick tick tick
I'm gonna need some quick quick quick
To win the day
Which should be a given
With how much time
I have left to rhyme
In the current day
But I have to say
That the first good count
Of the final quarter
Is on the small side
Not that it hurst my pride
Because one long rowd
Will be followed by more
Just not more enough
I fear but yes
To win the 2nd
And happily go
To 2 and 0
Because I'm not feeling the flow
And have the latest taste
Of Strup to draw
My supposed Comic Strip
Mostly free of panels
And regular characters
Because drawing a thing
The same but time and time again
Is a challenge indeed
But I have the want yes all all the same
To do these things
Like covers to
A hypothetical comic
That will never be
Which is on the list now
To be the subject of a comic book
Of a limited nature
Lest it gets all the love
That it would need
For me to bleed
The blood of creation
Into its pages
On an ongoing basis
Metaphorically speaking don't you know
So that will cut into
The time that I have
For the writing I still need to write
To win the night
And the day of course
That led but into it
Though given how quick I draw
I can ever hope
That I can win the day
But half past 11
Then draw my latest Strup
And end the day
In a winning way
Because I'm not yet certain
That I'll win with the writing
Yeah I'm sorry I let you down
As I sailed through the seas
But yesterday yes
And landed on the island
Of naught but victory
And gave you cause to think
That with the drink
Of your distant support
Which I feel from here
That I'd win more than once in a row
Of course it's not set in stone
That it will be one day alone
That I win before
I face my first loss
In the return to regular posting
On my little site
That could well might
Yes help me win at life
However much it will
But I'm in tough
Though I cannot blame
The lack of 'Za for the toughness to win
I diud that all by myself
Because I can write in rhyme
Fuelled by any food
And any mood
For that good matter
As the flow is ever there
So long as I give it care
And time of course
Then I can write up a storm
With you but reaping
The cooling of the rain
That makes the grass glisten
As you walk but through the meadow
In tired bare feet
With the lady but wearing
A sweet summer dress
With pretty flowers
Adorned all over
Whilst holding the sandals
That she'd worn on the walk
With her man but wearing
Knee length shorts
And a short sleeve shirt
With a dark plaid design
While wearing an old man hat
That completes the look
At least that's the image yes
That snuck inside my head
And demanded I share it now
Though I was only too happy
To share it eh
So it didn't feel like any demand
And was more like a gift
From the Spirit of Verse herself
Aye credit to her
But credit to me as well
For being receptive
To the poet's flow
Almost as if
I was forged into
My own blade
That I've ever wielded
Only it's been established
That my own blade
That I've been swinging
All these years
Is Sweet Baevalon
So it can't be both
As I only wield one
And even then
It can sadly be asked
How but well
Do I even wield it
Because this is a world
That orbits on money
Not gravity no
And then in a Flash
No not Jay or Barry
Wally or Bart
I guessed at the truth
On another Earth
That vibrates yes
By three desgrees more
There's a woman like me
By the name of Baevalon
Who wields a blade of her own
That she calls Petrie
Because it sounds better than Charles
And to family yes
I am indebted to
So that but also why
Is her blade but named thus
Now this is all but make believe
As I don't wield no blade
Like a heroic farmer
Where what I do
Serves a pressing need
But this I'll say
Without a hint
Of modest pshaw
That what I write and draw
And offer up for playing
Both now and in the future
All feed the soul
And that is worth
But something yes
Because we live but right
With more than food in our belly
And yeah
I can feed
With the easy candy
And the cookies sweet
But also with
The full onb dinners
That we remember
When family's gathered
For the goodly good
To celebrate life
In all the ways that we do
That's just true
Now some might say
That sounds like shiite
Like how mdare I write
But such a thing
When I am who exactly
lIke seriously
Who even are you
I'm Petrie comma Charles
And I believe in me
Along with the good
Of my poetry
And other things too
I just have to prive it true
So about my winning
As the final hour
Of a Friday free of 'Za
Is right around the corner
I'm close yes
But am I close enough
To finish the harvest
As I'm half a field away
From swinging for the win
And that's a lot to fell
In 39 minutes
Give or take
Which is what I need to do
To not let you down
Not that you were thinking
Or betting either
On either state
Of winning or losing
But I'd be down
With the fact of a pool
All based on me
And do I write enough
On any given day
To win but yes
And just to be clear
Winning is when I write
3000 words in a day
More poetically writ
As three good fields
Because I grew up on a farm
Even though it was never my thing
It's a part of my story
And I like the romance
Behind the sttrong armed poet
Who travels his world
Swinging the poet's blade
For all who watch him yes
So it's fantasy I know
Because poetry here
On the Earth we know
It's like poietry what
Who likes that
Which gives me cause to believe
It's the least regarded art
Please to prove me wrong
And while you fail
I'll continue to sail
The goodly seas
Of this well-blessed life
That looks like one
That is much without
And fight the fight
That I probably shouldn't
But I turn 50 yeah
And since it was
Sweet poetry
That first drew me to the hope
Of a writer's life
What better way
Than to do what I've done
For two straight years
With all the forms
As I wrote a million words
In each of those two years
The one before
Yes you know what
And the one but of
Which ain't no easy feat
Yeah you do the math
That's a lot of writing
That notevery writer can do
So if I bring it up
Too dang often
For your liking yeah
Can you blame me much
Since I can't think
Of another thing done
In all my life
That beats this doing
This feat of mine
And speaking of feats
Add another brick
To the pathway I'm making
As I'm about to win
Yet another day
As I can see the winning end
Just over the rise
Leaving me plenty of time
To draw my latest Strup
Because that's what I call it
Like the past good tense of strip
For Comic Strip right
That makes sense to you as well
But does it not
I'm not way off base
In giving it such a name
Yeah I didn't think that I was
It's nice to have my thinking
Be shared with a hundred
Which is a hundred times more than one
No I know this isn't a conversation
Though I have a subscriber base
That is quiet and shy
Or given up on the thought
That I'd ever return
So their reticence
To comment yes
Is more thyan understood
I need to be here
Like I haven't before
So it's gonna take
More than two good days
To see even a flicker
Of comments yes
As I'm good at drawing the shy
Though that's the same shy
That was kind enough
To give me a try
So I can't be too too too
I don't know what word to use
So I'll leave it at that
And take a bow
For wham kaplow
I smote the beast
That needed smiting
And won the day
With half the words coming
In less than one good quarter
And with that I think
That i can take my leave
And draw drawer draw
Open the chest
And do your best
To strup it up good
Yeah I strupped it up good I did
But that vedry strupping
Which is an already word
If memory serves me yes
Is what cost me a chance
At a bonus win
Of writing through
One of the four good quarters
In which I felled two fields
Thanks to the goodly swinging
Of my poet's blade
Which is double the feat
That I should need
In any 4th
Though not the double
Of what I needed tonight
It would have been nice
To have scored my first two quarter
Of sweet good April
On only the second day
As I never know
When such a fruitful time
Will be mine for felling fast
And having reached the harvest point
Of 16 long rows
With time but there
For me to harvest more
How could I not want it
Only there was Strup
Which needed a right good strupping
As the effort I made with it
A week ago
With three panels
Did not strike me well
Not that I hated them
I just needed better
From mine own head
Than what I delievered
Granted yes
My best's whatever
But even then
It has a worth
Yeah even the least
I won't say worst
But it came at a cost
Of failing to fell
Yes two good fields tonight
Q4