I’m still going. Heck, we’re not even halfway through!
So, here’s a funny thing. When you don’t make all the details clear to the scribe, sometimes things end up looking awesome — but differently awesome from the way you were envisioning.
I like Acrostic poems. I like them a lot. They’re period. They’re pretty. And I’m always looking for ways to increase the complexity and difficulty of my poetry, to make me work harder, be better with word choice. One way of doing that is to force yourself down an avenue where your choices are limited. Acrostics take the first letter of every line and turn those letters into words or a message. Often lovers would write poems where the first letters would spell out the name of their beloved.
So I wrote Samii an Acrostic poem… and forgot to tell Gillianne. The resulting scroll is absolutely beautiful and gorgeous… but it breaks the Acrostic.
That’s completely my mistake. I wrote the ingredients, but forgot to tell the cook what temperature to use. It’s not anyone’s fault but my own that the cake turned out different.
Samii is a pretty awesome dude, who is handling a lot of life in a very graceful and dignified manner. He’s got a very Mr. Rogers vibe to him: he’s always got time for friends, he’s a friendly ear, he’s kind, he’s helpful. We could all do a lot worse than to pattern ourselves like Samii.
His Willow, for his varied and amazing art, is below. I bolded the first letters so you can see what it spells out.
All rejoice! For today We celebrate our Friend
Will you join Us in happiness today?
As scads have word of Samson to Us sent
Repeated words of Samii’s art at play
Do not doubt, friends, for We have seen your hearts,
Ours, too, do join yours now in righteous song!
Fairly split and harmonious in parts
Tying love for Samm’s art unto the throng!
He is a miscellany in himself
Ever trying and learning something new
What will he grow to next put on the shelf?
In truth, We dare not guess what will accrue!
Laughing, Samii makes his way through this life
Loving art above all with happy zeal
Oh, do We bestow now without strife, a
Willow do We now put Our hands and seal.