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The OFFICIAL Cornfield Library lounge area thread. Off topic posts are allowed!
15 15

Started by CGC Mike,

40,337 posts in this topic

FoggyNelson

FoggyNelson

Posted
Posted
On 12/23/2022 at 9:26 PM, 1950's war comics said:

 

Marcia Brady has gotten older too ! everyone is getting older (except me lol )

Brady Bunch actress Maureen McCormick looked 'completely exhausted' on Saturday, just two days before her Dancing With The Stars premiere

 
 

Marcia Marcia, Marcia is Hardly recognizable 🥴🤔

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MattTheDuck

MattTheDuck

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Hard to believe it's been a whole year since the cornfield was planted.  It's grown beautifully and is really a great feature to be able to post all this random nonsense somewhere here.  I feel like it's been used to good effect.

Merry Christmas and/or Happy Holidays and a very prosperous 2023 to all the Library regulars and the occasional drive-by.  Hope all your lives are filled with 9.8 white pagers.

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frozentundraguy

frozentundraguy

Posted
Posted (edited)

Ok here we are on the verge of Christmas, and what have I to post but some nonsense I wrote about 5 years ago. It's a short venture into the twilight zone where a pumpkin to the head knocks Ichabod Crane back in time about 20 years, just in time to take the place of Paul Revere.

 

The midnight ride of Ichabod crane ..  substituting for Paul Revere

Twas a fine night to be out for a ride
little did he have but humble pride
over the narrow bridge he hastily crossed
not knowing that all soon would be lost

Then an unerring sphere whistled through the air
true to its course, it him plumb square
that stout pumpkin exploded upon hitting his head
as his lights dimmed he wished he'd stayed in bed

A long time passed before he awoke
but not by the road, nor the hoary wizened oak
Instead he found himself near the swelling seas side
"What has happened now", he was heard to have cried

Soon he was surrounded by deadly earnest men
"Wake up good fellow why are you sleeping in the glen
Were looking for a good man who has a fast horse
as Revere's horse is lame and cannot run the course"

"We have no horses and no one else is nearby
so we implore you to take reins and fly
as the British are coming, and it's now your mission
to dust yourself off and warn of the invasion from Britain!"

 

Part II

So Ichabod, decided to accept that dangerous role
No one seemed to have noticed that he was one shaky soul
He'd make that ride through a hail full of shots
and let the historians see if they could connect the dots

He wearily climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
Up the wooden stairs, with trembling tread did he lurch
"I must have bats in my belfry" passerby's overheard,
But he surprised the skeptics, and from their chairs they stirred

Suddenly all his thoughts went askew
As a shadowy shape rose out of the gloom,
Where the creek widened out and threatened impending doom
A line of pumpkins whistled from out of the fog
"That's not in the -script", and he ducked like a dog

It was twelve by the rusty village clock
When he pulled into Medford, he had a huge shock
with fresh memories of the horseman, he let out a wail
waking the town's men, and setting them upon the Britishers trail
then he noticed the slimy abundance of bog
and shuddered again as he was overrun by the fog

It was one AM as he heard the town crier shout,
When he eased his old mare into Lexington.
He saw the withered wicker sticks
from witches games played, replete with nasty tricks
their worn out brooms stark and bare,
leaped out at him, from melancholy thin air.

It was an hour later at the next village gate,
When the British scouts strolled into town
He heard the beating of their drums
and the wispy wings of bats in flight
and felt the dread of awful fright
blowing over the stirring leaves
and no one was safe in bed that night
much to the stealthy invaders delight
as the British prepared their lines in the road
soon to be wracked by many a musket ball load

So you thought you knew the rest so well
but sit still yet and listen for a spell
The British troops they stopped for beer
and the Yankee militia caught them from the rear
While behind the tables and one lonely bar stool
stood Ichabod still looking to see if he was followed by a ghoul


So through the night rode Reveres stand in twin
but on that night he rarely ventured in
from out of the cold to the warmth of the fire
even though he would repeatedly tire
And his voice tired, though, from many shouts of alarm
would prevent many that night from serious harm
for borne by the scare of those pumpkins thrown
he would ride all night on his bedraggled roan
For in those hours of fright and needless fear
the nation would waken calmly and rousingly cheer
The slogging shuffle step of that horse so plain
And the midnight message borne by Ichabod Crane

 

sleepy_hollow_1.jpeg

sleepy_hollow_2.jpeg

Edited by frozentundraguy
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Cat

Cat

Posted
Posted
On 12/25/2022 at 3:42 PM, frozentundraguy said:

Ok here we are on the verge of Christmas, and what have I to post but some nonsense I wrote about 5 years ago. It's a short venture into the twilight zone where a pumpkin to the head knocks Ichabod Crane back in time about 20 years, just in time to take the place of Paul Revere.

 

The midnight ride of Ichabod crane ..  substituting for Paul Revere

Twas a fine night to be out for a ride
little did he have but humble pride
over the narrow bridge he hastily crossed
not knowing that all soon would be lost

Then an unerring sphere whistled through the air
true to its course, it him plumb square
that stout pumpkin exploded upon hitting his head
as his lights dimmed he wished he'd stayed in bed

A long time passed before he awoke
but not by the road, nor the hoary wizened oak
Instead he found himself near the swelling seas side
"What has happened now", he was heard to have cried

Soon he was surrounded by deadly earnest men
"Wake up good fellow why are you sleeping in the glen
Were looking for a good man who has a fast horse
as Revere's horse is lame and cannot run the course"

"We have no horses and no one else is nearby
so we implore you to take reins and fly
as the British are coming, and it's now your mission
to dust yourself off and warn of the invasion from Britain!"

 

Part II

So Ichabod, decided to accept that dangerous role
No one seemed to have noticed that he was one shaky soul
He'd make that ride through a hail full of shots
and let the historians see if they could connect the dots

He wearily climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
Up the wooden stairs, with trembling tread did he lurch
"I must have bats in my belfry" passerby's overheard,
But he surprised the skeptics, and from their chairs they stirred

Suddenly all his thoughts went askew
As a shadowy shape rose out of the gloom,
Where the creek widened out and threatened impending doom
A line of pumpkins whistled from out of the fog
"That's not in the --script", and he ducked like a dog

It was twelve by the rusty village clock
When he pulled into Medford, he had a huge shock
with fresh memories of the horseman, he let out a wail
waking the town's men, and setting them upon the Britishers trail
then he noticed the slimy abundance of bog
and shuddered again as he was overrun by the fog

It was one AM as he heard the town crier shout,
When he eased his old mare into Lexington.
He saw the withered wicker sticks
from witches games played, replete with nasty tricks
their worn out brooms stark and bare,
leaped out at him, from melancholy thin air.

It was an hour later at the next village gate,
When the British scouts strolled into town
He heard the beating of their drums
and the wispy wings of bats in flight
and felt the dread of awful fright
blowing over the stirring leaves
and no one was safe in bed that night
much to the stealthy invaders delight
as the British prepared their lines in the road
soon to be wracked by many a musket ball load

So you thought you knew the rest so well
but sit still yet and listen for a spell
The British troops they stopped for beer
and the Yankee militia caught them from the rear
While behind the tables and one lonely bar stool
stood Ichabod still looking to see if he was followed by a ghoul


So through the night rode Reveres stand in twin
but on that night he rarely ventured in
from out of the cold to the warmth of the fire
even though he would repeatedly tire
And his voice tired, though, from many shouts of alarm
would prevent many that night from serious harm
for borne by the scare of those pumpkins thrown
he would ride all night on his bedraggled roan
For in those hours of fright and needless fear
the nation would waken calmly and rousingly cheer
The slogging shuffle step of that horse so plain
And the midnight message borne by Ichabod Crane

 

sleepy_hollow_1.jpeg

sleepy_hollow_2.jpeg

That's very well done. Nice idea too. 

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