Sonnet to ButterHere's a sonnet to butterWhy write this thing you ask?Well don't get all aflutterAlexiuss set me this taskI love to spread with a knifeLove to spread it on my toastI want butter to be my wifeFather, Son and Holy GhostNow whilst some of you think butter's greatMost of you will think of me as madWell let me tell you how my love started mateI was influenced by my dadNow I've confessed my love of butter to youWon't you join me here and admit that you love butter too?
Superbly RefinedThe sun was just beginning to set when Cyrus and his sister Luci finally began the brief walk downhill to the fairgrounds. Every summer the usually desolate area began a beehive of activity, the kind of social event that Cyrus could never understand and would usually avoid. Luci made it very hard for him to do so, however. She always enjoyed the bright lights of the Ferris Wheel and Tilt-a-whirl, but because none of her friends wanted to get near him with so much as a ten-foot pole it became his duty as her brother and sole guardian to drive her there.“I think you’re old enough to go by yourself now,” he stated, his voice joining the cacophony of others making their way down to the main gates. Though he had complied, it did not mean he would not complain.“Yea, but mom would kill you,” answered the pale haired youth beside him, “Besides, I can’t drive yet.” She added as an afterthought.Slightly annoyed by the way the night the way was a