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When, or how, or if, or what
                Is the Akond of Swat?

Has ever he had a drink with an elf?
When he drinks, does he prove his swatty self
                A SOT,
                The Akond of Swat?

When he wants to get high, does he pack a pipe,
And puff, till cherried, a bowl of ripe
                GREEN ***,
                The Akond of Swat?

Someone, or nobody, full of snot,
Knows when, or how, or if, or what
                Is the Akond of Swat.
Seanathon Mar 15
With eyes to weep beneath the night
Neath trees which ought to've lasted ere
How sad it was for me to leave
Before such fullborn youthful tree
I'd turn myself once more, I could
And cry her name fullborn aloud
To catch my breath, and see her all
Before my Gondolin did fall
Calaquendi - The high elves
Temporal Fugue Dec 2018
His feet in the snow
on roofs unmaintained
not fat, and not slow
the deer have been reined

Down the flue that's unclean
he'll shimmy and shake
someone no-ones seen
all gives and no takes

His insurance bill
is high as all ****
the upkeep of elves
you know he knows well

His lawyer exclaims
every year at this time
"you're bound to get caught
as a break in's
a crime"
Girard Tournesol Dec 2018
Dead Elves lay red-green vinyl metaphors
A lawn-full once happy helpful industrious
Now lifeless realities of common folk
Blown away by puffs of truth
Outside Words Nov 2018
Munching, crunching on a bone,
The trolls of Langwood growl and moan.

Through feral mutterings and drivel,
They gulp and choke down last night's grizzle.

In their cave on rocky mountains high,
Their scaly skin cracks from air so dry.

Once human men poisoned by greed,
Transformed into ogres for their misdeeds.

They prayed on people of modest means,
Until our good sorceress intervened.

She protects our land and keeps us safe,
From warlords and bankers filled with hate.

Condemned to live long foul lives,
The trolls of Langwood miss their wives.

For they now resemble their truer selves,
Forever denied the beauty of men and elves.

© Outside Words
sunprincess Oct 2018
Chasing after rainbows and pots of gold,
Most times, well almost always
When I skip down the yellow brick road
Little elves arrive there first

Do you know wherever there's a rainbow
There's an elf not far behind
And whenever I see rainbows appear
Wow! I can't help but wonder

Was that famous Elvis, king of Rock n' Roll
With perfectly styled jet black hair,
And pockets full of shiny coins of gold
Was he King of Elfin Kingdom, too
Outside Words Sep 2018
tiny elves in my backyard on my stoop -
“PLEASE SIR, MAY WE HAVE SOME SOUP?”

running out from between blades of grass,
they shouted in unison with a burly crass:

“YOU MUST UNDERSTAND, IT'S A TUESDAY NIGHT,”
“AND TUESDAYS ARE SPECIAL IN ELVEN LIFE!”

“sorry sir, soup is not for elves; mommy said!”

“DON'T LISTEN TO THAT OLD BAT,
IT'S LATE AND SHE'S IN BED…

...WE COME TO YOU IN NEED OF NOURISHMENT!”

“but, I’m just a kid and mommy discourages it!”

i said in my biggest voice, for the 900th time
as they threw up their arms, like I’d committed a crime!

running around in a mass,
they ran back, with such sass,
through the leaves in a big hurry -
on a hunt for soup they scurried...
© Outside Words
Uta Jun 2018
Cold night,

swift breeze,

she was shining like a bright diamond beneath the moonlight sky,

her skin was pale and soft,

Her eyes blue, secretive and true,

an elf she was,

fairest, wisest and most powerful of all beings that walk the Earth,

and yet a creature so beautiful and so wise,

fell in love,

with a man,

a mortal,

of which was a shocking decision for others,

but a right one for her.
Comment and tell me what you think!

A very short loving tale between a she-elf and a man.
Uta Jun 2018
Wolves lurking through the trees,

hunting, surviving in the cold breeze.

Monsters hiding beneath the ground,

killing and slaughtering everyone around.

He who searches the sky,

will find the stars amplify.

Witches, wizards, elves, and dwarves,

they all fight for something that isn't yours.

Wealthy or poor they are all the same,

dying and living is just a game.

Do not be fooled by the allure,

it can trick you into thinking obscure.
Comment and tell me what you think.
Inspired by the Witcher 3 Lullaby of Woe.
Please, if you have a better name title for this poetry, tell me.
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