To sip vines brew and ponder thru a night
When night alone knows naught of loves sweet cheer;
To toast a love with feelings e'er contrite
And know tho’ love is gone that love is near;
For love is twine that binds two lovers twinned
Not as a fettered shackle on the calf
But holding two as one against the wind
Then two as one stand stronger than each half;
So tarry not when night has lost his crown --
When chorus breaks to herald first suns praise;
Tarry thee not unto a waiting gown
Of warm embrace thru many coming days;
        One night is all yet still one night is long --
        Night bear love swift to where love doth belong

Young men in France would clamber to that call,
To drink their fill of bottles filled with wine;
They lined them up and shot them on the wall.

Sat huddled in small cafes in the fall,
When news of war came creeping down the vine,
Young men in France would clamber to that call.

Their basic training taught them how to sprawl,
As target dummies waited in a line;
They lined them up and shot them on the wall.

They marched to battle, lean and fit and tall,
And when the whistles blew to give the sign,
Young men in France would clamber to that call.

In no-mans-land, their charge became a crawl,
And in the mud they cursed the German swine;
They lined them up and shot them on the wall.

The Germans countered, swiftly taking all
The captured and the wounded to a mine;
Young men in France would clamber to that call:
They lined them up and shot them on the wall.

To arms! To arms! Arise thou stricken knave!
For merry mischief summons thee from rest;
Arise! Arise! The battle thou dost crave,
Hast struck thy heart like thunder in thy breast.
Put on the silken cloak embossed with gold,
Raise up that sword, equip the heavy shield;
Throw off thy weary battle-scars of old,
Onwards to war, and never shall ye yield!
Advance! Advance! Thy nemesis appears,
Wade thru the lesser men, brush them aside;
With battle drums a-ringing in your ears,
No friend or foe will tarry e'er thy stride;
        Fear not the daggered eyes, the poisoned glance --
        "Perchance my lady, would ye care to dance?"

A chilling solemn breeze sweeps thru the town,
Down empty streets where children used to play;
The crumbled buildings, many falling down,
A monument to history's darkest day.
The rusted hulks of burned out motor cars,
Discarded bicycles against a wall,
The roads that carry disused tram-line scars,
The poignant remnants of the old church hall.
No more, the children laughing in the street;
No more, the parents in their Sunday best;
No more, the echoes of jack booted feet;
Forever shall ye martyrs lay in rest.
        The town will always stand as testament,
        To sons and daughters France will e'er lament.

TENOR:
        My love!
        My first bassoon!
        The one - who taught me loves sweet tune!

{DRUMS}
        GONE!  GONE!  -  GONE!  GONE!

TENOR:­
        My love!
        My sweet La Lune!
        She came - and then was lost so soon!

{DRUMS}
        GONE!  GONE!  -  GONE!  GONE!

SOPRANO­:
        My love!
        My great Maestro!
        The one - who taught me all I know!

TENOR:
        Why?
        Why did she go?
        Why did she - L..E..A..V..E... - M..E?

{DRUMS}
        GONE!  GONE!  -  GONE!  GONE!

BARITON­E:
        My sweet La Lune! - She plays her tune
        Upon a shiny new bassoon!
        My sweet La Lune! - She plays for me
        Oh such ****** symphony!

{BRASS}
        OOM PAH PAH! - OOM PAH PAH!

TENOR:
        What's this?
        I spy La Lune?
        Blowing bassoon - a new c-o-n-d-u-c-t-o-r?
        His baton -
        She's sat upon!
        It seems she's found - a new i-n-s-t-r-u-c-t-o-r!

{DRUMS}
        GONE!  GONE!  -  GONE!  G­ONE!

SOPRANO:
        My love!
        My new found love!
        How I adore - your o-r-c-h-e-s-t-r-a-t-i-o-n!
        And with -
        Your dextrous hands -
        You fill me with - a-n-t-i-c-i-p-a-t-i-o-n!

BARITONE:
        My love!
        My new found love!
        You light me up - a shining c-a-n-d-l-e!
        And with -
        Your dextrous lips -
        My baton loves - to feel your H-A-N-D-E-L!

{BRASS}
        OOM PAH PAH! - OOM PAH PAH!

TENOR:
        The end!
        The end is nigh!
        And they must die! - There's no denying!
        But how -
        To pay them back?
        For they deceived - me with there l-y-i-n-g!

CHORUS:
        The end!
        The end is nigh!
       And they must die! - There's no denying!

TENOR*:
        Upon my word - I will make them pay!
        Upon my word - they will die THIS DAY!      

{TRIANGLE}
        TING!

{CURTAINS CLOSE - END OF ACT 1}

What cultivates the greatness of our homelands?
Tis not the land, the rocks, the earth, the sea,
The treaties writ for nobles by their own hands
Decrying common views as heresy.
Great Britain was still great long e'er the sun rose
Blessing the nets of Europe's wedding veil,
And when her arms extended to her old foes,
She stood alone, defiant, to prevail.
Tis in the heart, the will, the strength of mind
Of each proud lad and lass that calls her home
Wherein the Great of Britain seeks to find
The inspiration of her epitome.
        On her 'twas said the sun would never set,
        Let not her sons and daughters e'er forget.

Our lives are as the raindrop to the river —
We falter, and we tumble; We are lost
And in the tumult cling to one another —

Enslaved by riverbanks, the river roiling
Is rain-lashed in a torrent — We are tossed
And buffeted amidst the turmoiled boiling —

Atop the foaming surface, battles rage
As brother battles brother for the sun —
Relenting, flowing, falling to a cage

In murky depths, with blissful recollection
Of cloudless skies afore the rivers run,
We cling to hope to someday rejoin Heaven.

Meet me by moonlight
Where the low shadow falls —
We will dance in the twilight,
Our duet as loves’ thralls

We will dance tight together
For one heartbeat, one kiss,
And one breath of forever
Will preserve our sweet tryst.

A book without a cover,
No pages and no ink,
That I alone discover
Each time I deign to think

Each line a shared adventure,
Each word a tender kiss,
Each chapter I remember
Reminds me how I miss

The things you never said to me,
Our ending incomplete,
So perfect in my memory,
My love, you can't compete.

They sit atop a low wall kicking heels,
Pyjamas draped in bathrobes pulled-to tight
To ward Antarctic winds — Nearby the squeals
Of blues and twos betray the mortal plight
Of some ill-fated soul — A fog bank peels
Up from their glowing embers, for in spite
Of coughing blood and dragging drips on wheels,
Collective will has long since lost the fight —

And did they think as children at the flicks,
As war was sold with glory, did they think
As Bogart raised a lucifer to his lips
How Tinseltown might guide them to this brink,
And just like Fleming’s catcher tempt them in
With candy coloured cartons and a grin?

Painter and poet,
Artists, both — One doth show it,
The other doth quoth!

A stylish beauty born of elegance
So full of life, so wondrous to behold
How sweet the perfumed fragrance of romance
Beguiling timid lovers to be bold
The velvet softness of your petal skin
As gentle as the fall of purest snow
Such vibrant colors, where should one begin?
The white, the peach, the red, an endless show
To name a thing is but to give a name
Yet names are naught but locks wrought with no keys
Constricting like a portrait picture frame
That fails to capture aught but what it sees
        Yet in the end I’ll name you I suppose
        The beauty of a perfect English rose

Life without regrets
Defeats the point — Place your bets,
Risk the whole **** joint

sEnd
                              tHe                moNEy:

              *TRY!          ­   noTHiNg                         funnY!

    othEr     wIsE                               ,tHE

                   "poEt"                                          **DIES?

Ambition breeds strife --
The arm draped round your shoulders
Often wields the knife.

Preach poverty and patience to the poor,
When snarling winter packs hunt down the old;
Push them away and shun them from your door

Feed hungry souls with sermons and rapport,
Old shepherds, keep your flocks unto the fold;
Preach poverty and patience to the poor

When heaven's snow attests to hallowed floor
And beggars plead for mercy from the cold,
Push them away and shun them from your door

When hungry children cry 'a little more'
And clamour forth with rusted tins they hold,
Preach poverty and patience to the poor

When brothers, plague and famine, reach the shore,
The weak and dying seek to be consoled;
Push them away and shun them from your door

When paupers come with frosted feet to thaw,
And fill the hall to hear kind words unfold:
Preach poverty and patience to the poor,
Push them away and shun them from your door

Bar: Drinks are on me
Dartboard: Make mine a double!
Pinball: Down the hatch!
Bottle: Who's having a half-empty day then?
Glass: Stick a cork in it
Table: Steady on lads
Clock: Time gentlemen!
Dancing Girls: Bottoms up!
Calendar: Same time next week?
Windows: You're all barred!
Door: We are now closed
Lights: *We'll be off then

Under over, below above
Upturned a downing silver,
Tossed up to fall to rise to prove
The wayward godly river
Churned this to that to thin to fat
Until the one eye opened,
Where singles dwell in mingled swell
And woe to woo is ripened.

Did you ever, as a child, chase a butterfly,
A tiny Golden Birdwing, perhaps
Or a Bronze Roadside-Skipper?

Flitting, faster than an arrow,
Over a rusting wheelbarrow fortress,
Under an electrified washing line,
Dive-bombing plastic remnants
Of the light infantry,

Before spinning away,

Courting the breeze in a whirling dance,
Winged-eyes blazing bright as childrens' buttons,
Vanishing in a cluster of gold chrysanthemums,
Reappearing, fluttering freely,
From a sea of bronze fennel.

Did you dash dash dash,
Arms flailing madly,
Mouth locked in a giggling grin?

And did you ****** ****** ******,
Tiny hands grasping, clutching at air,
Desperate to hold natures princess?

Do you remember?

            Dashing,  Snatching,  Grasping,

And suddenly,

                          She      Was      Gone?

And­ did you dare peep, clumsily,
Into your tiny hands,
Between your fragile fingers,

Half afraid you missed her,
Half again, you may find her,

            Crushed  In  Your  Hands?

The quest for desire is a chase,
So demanding,
So determined,
So distracting,

Attainment without consequence
Is your end game,
And is all that matters

Until you face the consequence
Of your end game,
When all that matters

            Is  What  Remains  In  Your  Hands?

Part 1.

What wantless seeds attest to willing soil,
Each rooted finger delving to earth's core
In counterweight, as newborn limbs recoil
Up from the grave, to rise, to lift, to soar;
To marry gold above with gold below
As petaled faces bask in fiery glow.

In each low nook, on each high rising hill,
By narrow streams wending like living trails
Down through deep harbored vales where winds lay still,
Where night and shadows meet in mingled veils,
All sacred spots that nature calls her own
Know bounty of pure beauty fully grown.

Heaven to some, to some Arcadia;
Her lands enriched not by cold ore struck gold,
But by a blessed cornucopia
That wise men seek, but few will yet behold:
Into this realm a weary hunter treads,
As silent as a widow in silk threads.

His hooded face as weathered as a storm,
Dark eyes, a crooked nose, a fearsome chin;
Worn leather garb clung to his sinewed form,
Drab long cloak loosely clasped by silvered pin;
Old sword and dagger hung from side to side,
Short bow and quiver tarry not his stride.

Part 2.

The vestige trace long lost to eyes unskilled
Takes umbrage at his oft' requited glance,
And twisting like a ****** darkly quilled
To gift the puzzled reader bare a chance,
Turns this and that but all to no avail:
The hunter ever watchful of the trail.

Through field and copse, down to a steep ravine,
Plumbing the darkly deepness of a cave
That writhes through earthly riches like a stream,
Rising to spring like buds from winters grave:
Emerging into light as one exhumed,
The hunter pushes on, the hunt resumed.

For mile to broken mile the land retreats
To greet the rouse and sleeping of the sun;
As day and night dance gaily round their seats,
Taking a turn to sit on either one;
By light of sun, or moon, or stars, the prey
Sets firmer tracks each passing of the day.

Until a dawn awakes to shrieks of mourning,
One golden speck cries foul at visions edge;
Espying of the hunter's cruel adorning
She flits away towards a mountain ridge:
The hunter leaps, pursuing at a pace,
His prey is found, his hunt becomes a chase!

Part 3.

Arcadia delights in summer faire,
Yet all departed seasons lie within;
Protected from the ravage of time's stare,
They wander here or there upon a whim;
And to her borders, winter is inclined,
So comes the chill as summer falls behind.

Soft fertile plains give way to rocky climbs,
And mountain shadows mock sun's feeble stare;
Ice clung to stone, to sting all clinging limbs,
The hunter's eyes blinded by frigid glare;
His prey nearby, she clambers up the *****,
Her racing heart surged by false glinted hope.

Arcadia bade mountains rise up steep,
To keep her borders free of dint or breach,
And rising heavenward, each snow-capped peak,
An endless climb beyond all skillful reach:
The hunter clambers swift to shrink the gap,
And in a breath she falls into his trap.

A foxhole late encumbered with deep snow
Becomes her prison hemmed by harsh cold rock,
The hunter stands above, inclines his bow,
With silken string depressed by feathered nock;
One pause to blink before she pays his toll:
He stalls, steps back, and stumbles from the hole.

Part 4.

"Cold winds chill numb the hands, freeze not the mind!
What trick of sight gives light to such deceit?
Dare I to look once more? Pray will I find
My prey's own claws or tender dainty feet?
Treacherous snow lies deep, my eyes misled!
A beast I sought, a maiden found instead!"

"Kind sir, I find myself at your command!
Pray lend me arms no smith nor fletcher made,
But as my own formed of the sculptors sand
To shape the flesh into the mould he bade:
Pray open up your heart, come set me free,
For I would spy which hunter bested me!"

"Afore I gift my fingers to your plight,
Would you attest to count them fore and aft?
And pledge no claws will scratch nor teeth will bite?
And offer up the scheming of your craft?
A beast I hunt, yet here I catch no beast,
Be swift of tongue, the swifter then released!"

"Upon the sky that houses sun and moon,
The trembling mountains tamed by winters shiver,
The hills, trees, shrubs, vales, Arcadia's bloom,
The living streams, flowers like natures mirror:
Upon all things of worth if word be aught,
I gift my word, my ill to you is naught!"

Part 5.

Her slender form, as light as sleight of white,
He lifts up to assuage her troubled snare;
And looking then upon her wondrous sight,
With darting eyes for fear the sirens glare;
He feels a hammer strike a pillowed blow:
His lifeless limbs collapse into the snow.

"Fear not for words I gift are duty bound,
And bind me as a branch unto a tree;
Would I were fool to feast upon my hound,
My bonded words so too would feast on me:
But listen now, this nymph has had her fun,
The chase is run, the quest is just begun!

Arcadia opens up her vaulted gate
To fallen souls with honor on their name;
Not that bestowed where mongers congregate,
By kings rewarding those who **** and maim;
But those revered for kindly word and deed
Are born again through Arcadia's seed.

Live free to roam in Arcadia's haven,
Fish, hunt, give chase, for sport and for the thrill;
But heed me well, my bonded words are graven,
Open no doors to death, nor test his skill:
Death hunts you like the beast you thought to best,
Though chase be long, be sure he will not rest.

Part 6.

*Arcadia has but one proposition,
Be glad of heart, her realm cannot be broken;
But of your hand she makes a supposition,
You wear it still, a lovers gifted token:
All bonded vows should break upon her border,
That yours did not has brought her some disorder!

Though day and night swing endless through the sky,
No time shall pass within this hallowed glade;
Where once you stood, forever shall you lie,
One breath between a life and bitter shade:
Arcadia can open up her door
And with a breath, release you evermore!

Return to life, return to love's embrace,
Return to sickness, death and poverty;
Go now and lose all knowledge of this place,
Be troubled not by wistful memory;
This path once trod can never be unstarted.
Be warned: no path returns here once departed!

Here then your quest continues with a choice,
Remain within Arcadia's golden land;
Or live a mortal life and then rejoice
To greet your death when taken by his hand:
One breath to choose, one solitary breath,
Immortal life or yet a mortal death."

Do you remember when love was uncomplicated
Hand-holding, lonely fingers grasping,
Longingly, perfecting their grip?

And do you remember the honeymoon
Highs, up and up, dizzily clambering up,
Exploring new horizons?

And do you remember, precisely, when love emerged,
From clouds of chalked up experiences,
Foreboding as a mountain,
Where lonely fingers grasped,
Longingly, for fresh hand-holds?

The quest for loves summit rises,
Peak to higher peak,
Each conquered height unveiling a new vista,
Revealing loves perilous truth,
That each peak is surpassed by two more
And the summit remains elusive.

The fool will climb up and up,
Leaving a devastated trail of overlooks,
Ever unsated,
Ever yearning,
Ever lonely.

The sage will make camp behind a large rock,
Still aware of the mountains hidden presence,
But settled with a lightness of heart,
To enjoy just one wonderful view.

Selene's bright torch cast light through blackest night,
Unmasking gaped ravines in jagged rocks
That plunged down seeping cracks to Hades lair.
Mist-drenched ice-laden claws of winters bite
Tugged, scratched, gnawed bare cut fingers to the bone,
As limp, up mountain *****, the straggler climbed.

His face, a mask contorted by ordeal,
A coney cloak adorned his weathered back
Bent low by weight of many a mortal sin,
And hoof-like feet hid snug in blackened boots.
Half-shuttered eyes attested to the cold,
Whipped without mercy by the frigid wind.

Vile taunting voices mocked him from on high,
Each screeching laugh, an arrow to his spine,
Pointed reminders to his dismal plight,
Urging him up with heart-filled hatred pain
That surged like Zeus's lightning through his veins
And pushed him on to scale fresh heights above.

They spied, with venomed eyes, his trialled ascent,
Shifting from foot to foot to ease the cold,
Waiting till blood-drenched fingers stretched in vain,
Then leaping up on wings of patterned bronze
They took to flight, squawking in wild delight,
To see him slip, then stumble to his knees.

His failing arms flailed madly at the birds,
Hopeless to reach, lest Zeus should grant him wings,
And there upon the jagged mountain peaks
His tested will was hacked, cleaved, scattered wide,
As she who passed before and took his mind
Now lay, in darkened places of the world.

From deep within his cloak he pulled a flute
And shook the reeds, and rattled with a din
To shake the Gods within their hallowed halls
And of his fury, none has ever matched,
And fright took taunting voices from the birds
Who fearing for their feathers, swiftly fled.

Alone atop the world, the flute he raised
To tight pursed lips began a mournful air
That trembled over freshly fallen snow,
Recounting days forbidden love was chaste
And chased in answer to his endless lust,
Unsated by his many mortal sins.

Each fluted note sang long unto the night,
A serenade to all Selene had bade
Into her light, and then upon the wind
A voice as clear, as bright as Cygnus, came
In answer with a song like as his song,
So mournful that it crushed his broken heart.

And thou did ask, and lo I brung
A bullish thing, nonsensical,
And thou discarded e'er too long
My gift, inconsequential;

Why ask me for to fetch for thee
A thing thou found detestable?
Thou know'st I pander aught for thee,
Yet treat me as divestable.

Don't quest, like a hunter, for romance,
Pursuing prey, cunningly, to its lair,
Eyes stung by lust,
Quiver unslung to unleash arrows
Blindly, to win a heart.

At quests end, coveted trophies are lost,
Smothered to lose their free spirit,
Or flitting away, out of reach.

Is romance not a dance of equals,
Equally paced,
Equally poised,
Equally purposed?

Two hunted souls, warily learning trust.

The hunter often catches the prey,
And yet, still loses the game.

Does not the rain kissed garden fair the fairer?
Untamed sunlight wouldst wilt the brightest flowers,
As love unchecked might bring to bear the bearer
And feast to bite the mind it swift devours!
When darkling clouds loom storm-like over thee,
Weather thy thunderous rage tho' thou detest it,
Love sallies hence and makes a bold decree:
"No cloud is e'er so dark love cannot best it!"
Light shines its brightest in the dankest dark,
The better then that thou should plainly view it,
So of each storm make light with thy remark:
"Love is the light and darkness shall renew it."
        If thou wouldst doubt it so thou knows love not,
        Love knows it still long e'er these lines forgot.

Beyond beyond the battle cries
Beyond the crumbled walls
Beyond the stony battlements
Where banners rise and soldiers fall
Where bloodied men will weep and call
For gods and mothers at their sides
Where men fight brave and brave men die
Beyond beyond the crumbled walls
Where empires rise and fall

Beyond beyond the carrion flies
Beyond the crumbled halls
Beyond the crimson flooded moat
Where swordsmen clash and hammers ring
Where steel on steel will flash and sing
For gods, for country, lords and king
Where brave men fight and brave men fall
Beyond beyond the crumbled halls
Where empires rise and fall

Rita packed her camping gear
And set off on a trek!
Behind her house a forest grew
With mighty oaks and elm trees too
And there were lots of berries here
That Rita liked to peck!

Soon she found a little stream
And set about her goal.
She pulled her tent out of the bag,
But as she did, she felt it snag
And there along the pretty seam
She saw a gaping hole!

Rita cried, “Oh dear, oh dear!
What ever shall I do?”
She grabbed the tent and stared at it,
She should have brought a darning kit!
She watched the water flowing near
And wished that it was glue!

Rita’s mind span round and round,
And then a thought took shape!
She gathered leaves and gathered mud
And mixed them up right where she stood,
They made a slopping slurping sound
And looked just like a cake!

Rita gathered up some wood
And lit a little fire;
She smeared the mud cake on the seam
Just like a great big pile of cream!
And as the fire warmed up the mud
It got a little drier;

Pretty soon the mud had set
As hard as fresh concrete!
The tent was fixed with her new patch,
She climbed inside and closed the hatch,
And laying down she soundly slept
And stayed there for a week!

Rita was a battery hen
And every day was bleak;
For her, life's stage was just a cage,
And meagre corn her only wage,
But things all changed for Rita when
She learned that she could speak.

She overheard the farmer say
"That cage is getting weak,
That's not just dust, but flakes of rust
And if the hens gave one quick ******
They'd all be free to run away
And we'd be up the creek!"

She waited till the dark of night,
Then pushed into the gaps;
The bars were old, the bars were cold,
It seemed as though the bars would hold,
But Rita shoved with all her might
And felt the cage collapse!

She ran right out the farmyard
In the moonlight, dim and pale;
No more is known of where she's flown,
I hope she found a lovely home,
Perhaps she'll send a greeting card
To tell of her next tale!

Rita bustled busily,
To decorate each room
With jack-o'-lanterns, giggling ghouls,
And grinning ghosts with dribbled drools,
And moonlight glimmered spookily
On ghastly painted tombs;

She went to fetch her costume
And hoped it wouldn't itch;
She grabbed a strange and pointed hat,
An odd shaped broom, a stuffed black cat,
And in the mirror of her room
She turned into a witch!

A sudden tap-tap-tapping
Came from her green front door;
She opened it excitedly,
A-wondering who it might be
And then she started clapping
And dancing on the floor!

Her good friend Fox was outside,
He wore a long black cape;
With plastic fangs, he danced about,
But when he sang his fangs fell out!
They laughed so hard, then went inside
And had a slice of cake!

Rita heard the doorbell go
A-DANG-A-****-A-DING!
She put aside her favorite book
And ran outside to take a look,
But at the door, well wouldn't you know
She didn't find a thing!

She went inside and sat down
And then it went again,
A-DING-A-****-A-****-A-DANG!
The doorbell chimed, the door bell rang,
She ran outside and looked around
But once again in vain!

Rita felt so very cross,
"I've had enough!" she said!
Instead of rushing back inside
She looked for somewhere she could hide
And found a patch of comfy moss
And made herself a bed!

It wasn't long when Rita heard
A-DING-A-DANG-A-****!
And there upon a fluttered wing,
A hummingbird began to sing,
Such beauty in his trilling words
That Rita joined the song!

When the chimes came to an end,
The hummingbird looked glum;
He gave the bell a mighty clang,
The door bell rang, and then he sang!
And Rita laughed at her new friend,
She'd never had such fun!

Smiling still, she went indoors
To read the next few lines;
Short-lived was her tranquility,
And solitude was not to be!
She giggled as he played once more
Those humming door bell chimes!

Outside, the house looked dank and grey,
A pipe had sprung a leak;
The paint was peeling off the wall
From some old daubed graffiti scrawl,
Yet on the path were bales of hay
And someone with a beak!

Rita bustled up with pride
And set about to work;
She took the hay and laid it straight,
She mended pipe and fixed the gate,
And when she'd done, she went inside
But still she didn't shirk!

Plucking feathers from her back,
She tied them to a stick;
Then with her new self-fashioned broom,
She set about and swept each room,
She lifted rugs to give a 'THWACK!'
And dusted every brick!

When the day came to a close
She lay on sheets of foam;
Beneath the glow of candlelight,
Most everything was clean and bright;
She settled down for her repose,
So proud of her new home!

***,  ice and a slice,
and topped with salted water
poured into the drink

Curriculum

1. Physics
a) A body caught in motion
b) Running on a wall
c) Will learn the laws of gravity
d) But only when they fall

2. Chemistry
a) Base elements attraction
b) Bonding for a spell
c) Untouched, the noble beauty with
d) Her perfect outer shell

3. Mathematics
a) Relationships of numbers
b) One and one is one
c) When one and one adds up to two
d) Relationships are done

4. History**
*a) Lifetimes full of memories
b) Secret moments shared
c) To live and love most every day
d) With ne'er a moment spared

Exquisite lines, a model unsurpassed,
Quite so my friend, quite so, I quite agree!
Such sporty lines, such fine upholstery,
So sleek, so well refined and oh so fast!

Oh no Sir! Don't be fooled! It's all just hype!
New models lack their service history,
Which leaves you in a state of mystery
To know if they are really quite your type!

Why yes! You need your space, well check the trunk!
Your baggage will fit nicely, do you see?
Ah no Sir, I suggest you leave that be,
It's best if you ignore residual junk.

No Sir, you can't just take her for a ride,
But trust me, you'll enjoy her once inside!