Where Snow And Mist Are King

I went along to the Soup Feast in Politarchopolis, and since the competition was for a winter entertainment, I wrote this. Of course, you can’t expect me to be totally competent (that’d be dull!) so I only finished it after the competition was over. Hey ho.

[August 2002]

I lived a while in Rowany where the best that can be said
Is the place would be a joy if half the residents were dead.
And they say the summer’s lovely with the sunlight on the bay
But I found it mostly stinking hot, so I swiftly went away!
Off to…

My own home, my winter home
Where snow and mist are King,
And the ice on the trees in a midsummer breeze
Makes a lovely tinkly ring.

So to Stormhold for a holiday: I thought I’d see the town,
But it rained so much I stayed inside and listened to people drown.
And I thought I’d visit Innilgard, ’cause the ladies all are sweet
But I couldn’t enjoy their company ’cause of the all-pervading heat!
I’m off to…

So I took a ride to Ynys Fawr, in the darkest month, July
Where the penguins wear their coats done up and the seas are always high
And the winters were indeed a treat, with ice and chills galore,
But the people there have got extra heads, so I must reduce their score!
So back to…