The ghazal who ate the inkwell

[Leanne]

Come gather round and hear the tale of hallowed ink
And wild ghazals with wicked tastes for swallowed ink

The sagas speak of monsters who could never die
But heroes quenched their terror with a slash of ink

And you whose trunkless legs have boasted far and wide
Have died without a memory for lack of ink

I knew a poet once whose veins were indigo
And where his fingers roamed he left a trail of ink

Now here the phantom coughs of those who once imbibed
But have no stomach for the burn of honest ink

[ChristopherSea]

For some of us, an attempted ghazal is wasted ink,
so I will just feast on your gazal that ate the inkwell!

[Charlesjoseph]

I like this very much, bold work miss...
Cheers
Chazz

[Todd]

When I considering mastering a form I feel like that diver on an Olympic springboard who has just watched the competitor do a forward 2 1/2 somersault 3 twist pike, and says to themselves: screw it CANNONBALL!

beautiful work Leanne.

I loved the trunkless legs line especially. All of it was really good though (from my Cannonball perspective).

[Leanne]

Just mucking around. Odd things happen when I'm bored. My dog chews stuff, I just spew it out. Not the same stuff, obviously.

Well, not always.

[billy]

i bet you have a blue period

[Leanne]

Yeah, that was the origin of ink pads

[billy]

in the magazine industry it's called a monthly