yay, i hope your awesome

hmm... what to write what to write? i should really plan this blog better shouldn't i.
who was that, what are you doing inside my puny brain? oh wait, it's me.
"yeah, you talk to your self. what a loner. i'm just a figment of your imagination who wants to talk to someone, so i dont need a life. you do"
i hate you imagination, i am going to ignore you now

Thursday, December 16, 2010

poem about Thrice Dozer by Octaboona Ambrosius

Sweet Dreams

As Thrice curls up in a comforting ball
Kept warm by the crackling sparks
Of a cherry red fire that feeds on the logs
And protects from the fear of the dark

And he snuggles down deep in his nest full of down
And gently he drifts off to sleep
And as Thrice lies there dozing so softly
He murmurs and starts counting sheep

And he sips from a mug of hot cocoa
As the sweet smelling steam fills the air
And the chocolate aroma it wafts through the room
And a cool breeze just ruffles his hair

With his tabby cat curled up beside him
Who purrs as Thrice strokes him with calm
He sleeps on a warm woollen blanket
And rests there protected from harm

And the fusion of herbs from the garden
Honeysuckle, rosemary and thyme
And the sound of the deep tolling bells
That forms a melodious chime

And Thrice dreams whilst barely still conscious
He sighs in his slumber so deep
Now please all just hush whilst you listen
For Thrice he has fallen asleep

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