Brace yourself for a juggernaut, for I’ve a tale to tell.
I’m not out to bamboozle you, for that might send me to Hell.
I’d love for someone to collaborate on this lugubrious tome,
But I’d need to check your bonafides to let you in my pome.
I must admonish all readers to jettison schadenfreude
And accept my obsequious garble as a meaningful factoid
I’m careering about in my Websters, like a disheveled maniac
But I am fastidious in my yen to to give something useful back.
You may think my view is myopic, as I meander to and fro,
But my outlook is homogenous, as you already know.
This write may be intemperate, but I’m not a reprobate,
It’s actually a billet doux that’s a day or two too late.

The love of words is in my soul and swimming in my mind.
I kept a log of every challenge word that I could find
I tried to use them in a way that didn’t change their meaning
Even though that goes against the humor in my leaning.
I owe a lot to BLT for setting up this game we play
And hope I’ve written up enough to get me through this day
ljm

a paper blue square
took me miles high
to touch the sky
a cosmic make out
melted on my tongue

Hwenne, och! slawlie IT, an’ unco Licht!
Afoyr th' wounded frae Lyife Ghaist-Ancestors,
At Calanais Stane Sirkill Auld, an’ Verra IT, Micht!
Wae th' Lost ay! o'er Deep Tyme Unforgivin’,
Hidden Bleezan ay, Sacrificial Rite at Myrk Nicht!
Th' Stowed Oot Moon Conquerin’ rayses IT, tae mee!
Amydde Thae Verra Bluish, cannae nowe ye a' see?
Cauld Cluds ay flashin', an' Verra Thay A' Hye!
Ainlie, ainlie Raw Rid Bridie sloch Ah!

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Chaos,
grandness around us, within us
our pasts and our fates,
the heads and the tails you bring us,
nothingness,
mistress, our all that is free and forbidden
forgiven, forsaken, forseen and forsworn;

Our endlessness,
countless infinities that you defy
our unbreaking circle of charities your grace is defined by;
our mother, our barrens of space who is bearing existence;

our eminence,
baroness, dancing the torments of pregnance
our sorceress, chanting the songs of emergence;

our senses and souls,
your spawn, your kin, your death and your sins
our servant, your serfs
kneeled down and bowed over
your lust that is shameless, yearned for and proud,
raised up and all that is tall afly
your will that is mindful, yearning, forgiving;

our Godesses, our locks and our keys,
around us, within us, the now and the here,

listening through the ears of machine elves
our absolution from words uncertain;

speaking through colours of clockwork glyphs
our faith to bring magic into our lives;

teaching through picture puzzle pattern cellar doorways
our choice to approach whenever we wish.

You are awareness. We are mindful.
You are presence. We are eternal.