The rain now comes: "What is loony?" "What is crazy?"
The rain comes, and still I wait... with nearly endless patience.
The rain pours down- is Jazhara merely lazy?
The thunder sounds- does she not like confrontations?
..and then she strikes, with the bluntness of a trout.
...and then she strikes, tries to hit with a cliche.
But does she not know... that a champion is about?
And does she not know that there is another way?
I gave her a fair chance; I told her 'bout my heel;
But she decides to dance in the likeness of an eel:
Squirming back and forth looking for anything strange;
Could it be, perhaps, that this is out of her range?
This is not just a battle, but an epic of such size
That the shaking of a rattle is like what Miss Loony tries.
I will strike with the fury of a hurricane!
I will strike 'til she has to find another name!
And if you think I'm being just a little too dramatic
You will find me agreeing with your statement most emphatic.
For perhaps I am too harsh.
For I have not told
That inside the malted marsh
You may find the tool of old.
It can best the sword,
It can best my rants.
And now you may afford
To take another chance.
|
