A log of the magnificent journey across the vast sea of my imagination. |
A log of our magnificent journey. |
One fine day, as I was searchin' for my Muse, the Storymaster wrote some code that he could use to build a sanctuary for writers, so we could tarry and pull all-nighters, trying to light the creative fuse. May the goblins of gab ignite your conflagration with a gallon of pyrotechnic inspiration. May the witches brew a ton of titillation in the cauldron of your imagination. The folks at Writer's Cramp will test our wits, and Stormy Lady's words will give us fits, but kansaspoet's ghost still lingers here to make it absolutely clear that quality counts in a poetry blitz. May the goblins of gab ignite your conflagration with a gallon of pyrotechnic inspiration. May the witches brew a ton of titillation in the cauldron of your imagination. While the werewolves are howling at the moon and graveyard residents moan their gruesome tune, we'll write it all for posterity, each and every monstrosity, thanks to Storymaster's creative boon. May the goblins of gab ignite your conflagration with a gallon of pyrotechnic inspiration. May the witches brew a ton of titillation in the cauldron of your imagination. Notes ▼ |