fall's palette of colors over the landscape
these mellow hues on timber stands shall drape
painting a canvas in vintage foliage
copper and bronze being the season's dress code*
with a sprinkling of golden aspen ode
April's leaves returning to rustic frame
parks and mountains all graced by her dame
the brush of autumn's mature coverage
decorating in earthen tone effect
where she displays a ripening aspect
on her boughs clarets and russets brocade
reminiscent of nature's own tincture
nostalgia in the classical picture
*recalling to mind a wooded grove's glade

who's the current holder of the shop's deed*
when did he obtain an ownership creed
we have pondered on this very matter
but no answer has yet come to the fore
that will satisfy our questioning score
we've long thought his plate shingle hung on the gate
with letters saying this is York's estate
though there's little of proprietary clatter
been audible at the place for some while
this has so troubled our concerned bile
on him displaying the paper's freehold  
we'll have ken of his legal possession
this will be a rock solid expression
*which is penned in ink ever so bold

The plagiarist hath vacated this space
Yet his shadow still lingers at the place
In the nose one well senses it about
So oft an odor doth waft on the air
Which can be veiled by visage fair
The eyes are peeled they're ever watching
For that person of the copyist's cloning
Twill not be duped by untruthful flout
This day of its appearance yet unseen
Could there be a hiding behind the screen
Though the master duplicator hath fled
His presence is hovering over the joint
Of type in image same he did anoint
Within HP's walls it doth share our bed

On canvas God's image is obscured
A casual eye may not be secured
In the middle ground and to right side
A hooded figure the artist did paint
Within his composition it is faint
In center foreground a telephone sits
E'er taking the viewer's sighting wits
At back of picture greyish blocks preside
A dab hand with oils and of brush daubing
His canvas is a work most absorbing
In lake scene God's presence is reflected
Of the divine a common Dali theme
To grasp the meaning of his color scheme
The artist's intrigue must be inspected

I'm an accomplished writer of ****
So many of my poems feature piles of it
To-day I slapped up an offering
This one was scribed with lots of passion
No doubt you'll dislike this awful ration
When the mood strikes the lines flow free
My quill puts on a liberal **** spree
This star quality crap is worth proffering
I always surprise myself with my dross
It hasn't the appearance of top gloss
As the afternoon hours slowly draw near
Another poem of **** ilk hath dawned
So I shall let it be nicely spawned
Golly gee this is a grouse piece of **** gear

The rain now falls o'er our rural township
Tis such a delight to hear of its drip
We've been in a dry spell for a long while
With the advent of a pour we'll rejoice
That will be done in our happiest voice
The pastures were lacking of a good drink
Farmlands fast looking like an arid sink
A brighter day came with its wetting smile
Soils bestowed in moisture so fetching
Which shall bring a green to the land's etching
Fat drops continue their most quenching spill
Our hamlet thankful to the skies gifting
With its favor we've had an uplifting
The countryside hath received a filling bill

The master copyist hath made an appearance
Without being given the proper clearance
He's just blown in at another poetry site
One bets he'll be at his usual caper
Plagiarizing poet's work on his paper
Twas noted that he'd come to have a look
For poems which he could put in his own nook
None can be credited as a true write
This chap is serial at knocking things off
No wonder we should of him verily scoff  
As bold as a brass **** he was stealing
Slipping under the radar's scope to ******  
He's made that locale his casual patch
Hope he hasn't purloined those poet's writing