Zinging the zen-zone I was in
A zany request zig-zagged my way.
Princess Zinnia from the Zuider-Zee
Required a zippy line or two
To paint the zeitgeist of our times.

With the strength of a Zamboni-
With the power of a Zeus-
And an uncommon zeal I set out
To zap the doubt that slowed me.

With the flair of a Florenz Ziegfeld
And his zoftig choir of beauties,
I morphed into a zealot
Gamboling in the zephyrs
That wafted in from Zurich and Zaire,
Not to mention Zanzibar.

I felt like a Zacharias
When my zealous work went bust.
The writing turned into a zonk-
The accolades were zilch.
I felt like I’d been zippered up
Like a zebra in a zoo.

I lost my zest for going on
And slopped around in old Zoris,
Listening to zydeco’s beat
And feeling like a zit.

But then the Zodiac-
My zinging-singing sign
Came to my rescue
And I was marching off to Zion.

I was one wowie-zowie-zucchini
As I zipped across the pages
And zoomed from one idea
To an even zippier one.

So here, Sunprincess, is your verse
I’ve used up every letter zee
And gone from very bad to worse
But of this challenge, I am free.
                         ljm

Pull me in,
then let me go.
It's no big deal,
she wont know.

You have no strings
Your arms are free
To love me by the Zuider Zee
If you would woo
and pull me in.
I'd bust my strings for you.

But no strings on this boy,
just girls, keep playing pretend.
You'll keep raking them in,
like its just money to spend.

You're no one now,
ain't got no ties.
Just alone in the world,
with your greed and lies.

He's got no strings
So he'll have fun
He's not ******* to anyone
They've got strings
But you can see
There are no strings on him.

You play them
like they're your toys.
You'll **** with them,
but they don't make no noise.

You do nothing but use them,
and make them sad.
Then pull up with
a "oops my bad."

This is where it stops,
not going to pretend.
This is where I leave,
where the game ends.

I've got no strings
To hold me down
To make me fret, or make me frown
I had strings
But now I'm free
There are no strings on me...

The Dutch are the eternal
Dam Nation, Rotter's is
what the Belgians said
when a **** in Holland
refused to let the Manequin
Pis insert his wee little Wille
in what he assumed was a
Zuider Zee open to the public,
especially as it was in an area
that had been recently zoned red.