It was a rather simple enterprise, actually. Bjorn having barely survived his last adventure, concluded that there had to be a better way of making a living than traipsing through dungeons. He then had the brilliant idea of setting up adventures for others. He went to the last site and carefully mapped it. He then sold the quest map to others. How could it be his fault that someone had robbed it already?
Padre
Danny from his treetop perch
scanned the landscape far below.
“I think it’s gone,” he announced.
“Now’s our chance to go.”
“Are you sure it’s safe?” Tommy asked.
“I didn’t see it leave.”
“No, a bear’s too big for me the miss,”
Dan replied with confident ease.
The pair descended from their sanctuary high
to the patient bear hiding behind a bush nearby.
Padre
Henry tossed and turned. For the life of him, he could not settle. It wasn’t that there were urgent issues on his mind, nor was he overly stressed. It was purely that he could not get to sleep, despite being tired.
It was then that the first inklings of stress began to creep it. How, I going to function at work tomorrow if I don’t get some rest?
He rolled over again and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Nine-o’-five. That’s like midnight, he thought. Well, the middle of the night, anyway.
Padre
I often assert to my wife that 9pm is “midnight,” especially for those that have to wake up for work while it’s still dark.
A saturnine donkey
A bear with not much in his head
A tiger with a springed tail
And a rabbit with “keep out” in his garden bed
Christopher Robin’s companions
In Hundred Acre Wood
A strange collection of friends
But he did as well as he could
Padre
His views were simplistic
Really out of tune
They were in fact, quite jejune
Many said he was always “out to lunch”
In fact, he’d been there since yesterday’s brunch
Padre
I could write about apathy
I really could, I swear
Tell you about being apathetic
Though, I don’t really care
This is all you’ll get
No skin off my nose
You’ll just need to get used to it, I suppose
Padre
To speak too much, to ramble on and on
To run one’s mouth from dawn to dawn
Such constant babble may get on your nerves
For words for words’ sake no good can serve
I find myself when at school
Trying to quiet classes without being cruel
“Please arrest the superfluous verbosity” I will say
But they will chatter anyway
I again to them will turn
“Stop, curtail the loquaciousness, so we can learn.”
Maybe it’s best to let them speak
Surely, they’ll be quiet when they sleep
Padre
They were not friendly, the bitterness was off the scale
True acrimony between them did prevail
They would bicker, insult, and snipe
But it generally fell short of an actual fight
What was the cause of the constant strife?
It all started with Peggy, Tom’s wife
Who cut down Tammy’s fuchsias, with a kitchen knife
Padre
My love for you is enduring
My emotions you do enslave
For you, your mark have left upon me
On my heart engraved
Padre
It was an achievement momentous
Giving the public a thrill
A consummate example
Of determination and skill
And what’s that accomplishment
That was so brill?
It’s when Edmund Hillary mounted that hill
Padre
Padre's Ramblings 