The Poems Collection

Of Space Pebbles

I logged in today.

(As I do every day.)

Said my hellos to my

Fellow Scapers of Rune.

There was someone

Missing, though.

The name eludes me.

Perhaps you know who it was?

They appeared later, though

I know not of whom it was.

---

After what seemed to be but a second or two you say,

"So there's my PebbleScaping

Done for the day."

Rather, smashing the phone,

Or the laptop, or whatever

Your hand happens upon.

"Why," I ask?

"Why," you answer blithely,

"Why, to strike Wi-Fi into existence!"

I looked at you askance.

I did.

That is, I looked at the screen askance.

The screen blipped.

Starry Roses has logged out.

And blipped again.

Starry Roses has logged in.

And again.

Starry Roses has logged out.

And a few moments later:

Starry Roses has logged in.

"What on earth," I say,

"Is space rose doing?"

No reply.

She's gone again.

---

You called me a pleb once.

Do you remember?

Zeb, peb... Pleb.

Thank you very much.

I wasn't being sarcastic -

No, I wouldn't dare!

With you - You, my

Dearest, my closest, my

Most Envious Fan?

(No, not the ceiling fan.

Whatever made you think

That, of all Things?)

Come now, you bow to me

Every moment you glimpse me.

Deny it all you like -

Deny also that you called me Mebbe once,

Disguised behind a twisted Maybe;

And that you called me a Dwebble once,

In honour of that Pokémon

Supposedly of the same name.

I do not forget your 'blunders',

Resting on cold, hard, oblong surfaces.

Those are pebbles, by the way -

In case you didn't realise.

But, seeing that certain

Obsession you have with

Language,

You ought to know:

You Grammar ****, you.

(You know very well what I mean.)

---

Ah.

I just realised.

The Missing One.

It was you!

You, my Eternally Envious One!

Oh, how remiss of me.

---

P.S. I did want a poem, though

I am not exactly certain as to

The nature of this piece.

You have my apologies.

But now I must retract them,

For a poem is a Poem

If I name it thus.

Then, I did wish for one

The length of a light brigade.

In the end,

I wrote it myself,

As you proved ever so incapable

Of producing one yourself.

Myself, of course,

Being ever so slightly inaccurate;

For is not writing an amalgamation

Of shared experience,

My dear space rose?

(In reply I do expect: Yes,

Yes, indeed it is,

My vibrant Mebble.

But rather than this

Outburst of pure unrestrained

Thought that it is,

More suited to your ilk to like, think I,

May be the eggshells upon which

In blissful ignorance we tread,

Or the Pebbles which line that

Great Gielinor.

It would do you well

To remember the fated One -

The One of which I speak would,

No doubt, be the World Guardian -

Who allowed the retrieval of the

Golden Fleece of Scape of the Rune:

Pet Rock.)

A/N: This was pretty abstract, but I hope it made you laugh =P

To everyone else, this is very much an inside joke and a promised experiment. I'm sorry about that, and I do have several other poems lined up to make it up to you all ;)