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Shall I Compare Thee To A Mooseburger aka The Bad Poetry Thread

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Ms Duck:
The scene: During the funeral for the empress LIsabet of Cetaganda, Mother of the ruler of 8 worlds, and arch enemy (of sorts) of the Barryans, Each high Lord recited an elegiac poem to her honor, each longer, more poetic, and more rarefied then the last. These men would rather die (in utter aganoy) then get one syllable wrong.

Miles adds his homolies:

A Detigar empress named Lisbet
Trapped a satrap lord neatly in his net
Enticed into treason
For all the wrong reason
He'll soon have a meeting with his kismet

A beuatifull lady Named Rian
Hypnotized a Vor scion
the little defective
thinks hes a detective
but instead will be fed to the lion...

Piotr1600:
Dear Blaze and others et al, un-Bujolded
Lois-es works are wonders beholded
Though the Barrayar world is science fiction
The storys & characters lack nothing in depiction
The series is a first class read
most all have completely agreed
Miles is a mutant but a groovy guy
eccentric intelligence and sometimes sly
Like Duck, I would not have survived the "D"
But for me it was "Kommar" to heavily re-read
Like a singer always hitting a perfect note
As with Butcher, I read all she has wrote



(Seriously folks, Lois is a fantastic writer! If you like fantasy, I would also highly recommend the other two series, and standalone novel "The Spirit Ring")

Ms Duck:


to arise again this unhaven thread
crawled it back from rotten dead
rhyme with me
in all symphony
follow she said, foul a duck lead

Blaze:
I want to write something cheery
But I am quite leery
because, O! My! O! deary,
Today I am quite weary.

KarlTenBrew:
This Monty Python moment brought to you by Karl TenBrew and Mt. Dew ((they didn't pay me a cent for the advertising, cheapskates)):

((Moosey-moose Mooseburger))
I’m made of moose,
I have a bun,
Mayonnaise and mustard too-oo,
Lettuce and tomato,
But never will I Moo-oo.

((Lusty chorus singers))
He’s made of moose,
He has a bun,
Mayonnaise and mustard too-oo,
Lettuce and tomato,
But never will we Moo-oo.

He’s a Mooseburger and he’s alright,
Being eaten is his plight!

((Encouraged Moosey-moose Mooseburger))
I tired to get
Some special sauce,
But then I was deny-ied.
I’m still just a mooseburger,
So through the night I cry-ied.

((Lusty chorus singers, a bit hesitant))
He tired to get
Some special sauce,
But then he was deny-ied.
He’s still just a mooseburger,
So through… the night we… cry-ied.

He’s a Mooseburger and he’s alright,
Being eaten is his plight!

((Emotional Moosey-moose Mooseburger))
I always was
So lonely
Before I was a gui-uy.
I wish I was a pastry,
Just like my dear Pa-py!

((Lusty chorus singers, confused and skeered))
He always was
So lonely,
Before he was…a gui-uy…
We wish that we… were….pastries?
*Chorus is unstead-dy!*

((Me))
So the chorus was afraid,
The mooseburger they left.
And as they ran, he cried and cried,
Of friends he was bereft!

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