Best Shrunk Poems

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This time of trouble so torn by terror,
time of deep darkness and all-devouring death,
this time of woe, high wages and much wenching
is no time for pleasant pastorals and praises.
I wander weary this winding way and wonder
what future ills befall our faltering folk.
Lady Favour fools high...

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the great bard says
we're all players *
that play many parts 
but my shank hasn't shrunk
that the world's too wide for--
my manly voice fills it just fine
maybe after a pint or two
in mid-speech a word
(on the rarest occasion)
eludes me 
so--
okay--when it does
--don't you dare
I'll find it...

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