With apologies to Edgar Allen Poe ...
Once upon a midnight dreary, Judith Griggs, she ran a query,
Searching for some recipe that had become forgotten lore,
While she looked at blog and site, one article it came to light,
A tale of two tarts scrolled in sight, written by one Illadore.
'That's the article,' she muttered, 'written by one Illadore -
I'll take this, and nothing more.'
Ah, distinctly she'll remember it was in the bleak November,
When a good friend did remember to send a note to Illadore.
'Your article I did this morrow, find in a mag I did borrow
I hope it's not to your sorrow - that this mag printed your lore
The words are not quite familiar cause they're modern not of yore
Wonder why they did that for?'
On that day did Judith Griggs not know of her large future burden
See a message waiting for her, from the desk of Illadore!
'Was there some mistake,' said she, 'with all my words repeating
in your magazine they're speaking,' wrote the curious Illadore
'Found by someone who was seeking,' wrote the curious Illadore -
That is all, and nothing more.
The reply was rather stronger, and also quite a bit longer
'Ma'am,' said she,'please do know that it was my bad, I do implore -
But the fact the internet is public so I took for my biz
Your words but just not quite as is, fixing them was quite a chore
I kept your name beneath the words, fixing them was quite a chore
That's what you should pay me for!'
Little did she see appearing, or she would be really fearing
When her words became well known, out there came a mighty roar!
From near and far the battle cry as fast as light did it fly,
Then Illadore did say 'Oh my!' and watched as the wrath did pour
Upon the mag and Judith Griggs she watched as the wrath did pour
And kept on coming, ever more.
Some future day did Judith Griggs, pack her bags and leave her digs,
'Cause careless words returned to haunt, words that she did say before.
Cleaning out her desk of papers, shakes her head at the 'nets capers,
Wishing for some cleansing vapors, gets her bags from on the floor,
As she walks her head a shaking, heard just as she shuts the door,
Judith Griggs cries, 'Illadore!'.
I also posted it as a comment in Illadore's journal so she'll see it :-).
Searching for some recipe that had become forgotten lore,
While she looked at blog and site, one article it came to light,
A tale of two tarts scrolled in sight, written by one Illadore.
'That's the article,' she muttered, 'written by one Illadore -
I'll take this, and nothing more.'
Ah, distinctly she'll remember it was in the bleak November,
When a good friend did remember to send a note to Illadore.
'Your article I did this morrow, find in a mag I did borrow
I hope it's not to your sorrow - that this mag printed your lore
The words are not quite familiar cause they're modern not of yore
Wonder why they did that for?'
On that day did Judith Griggs not know of her large future burden
See a message waiting for her, from the desk of Illadore!
'Was there some mistake,' said she, 'with all my words repeating
in your magazine they're speaking,' wrote the curious Illadore
'Found by someone who was seeking,' wrote the curious Illadore -
That is all, and nothing more.
The reply was rather stronger, and also quite a bit longer
'Ma'am,' said she,'please do know that it was my bad, I do implore -
But the fact the internet is public so I took for my biz
Your words but just not quite as is, fixing them was quite a chore
I kept your name beneath the words, fixing them was quite a chore
That's what you should pay me for!'
Little did she see appearing, or she would be really fearing
When her words became well known, out there came a mighty roar!
From near and far the battle cry as fast as light did it fly,
Then Illadore did say 'Oh my!' and watched as the wrath did pour
Upon the mag and Judith Griggs she watched as the wrath did pour
And kept on coming, ever more.
Some future day did Judith Griggs, pack her bags and leave her digs,
'Cause careless words returned to haunt, words that she did say before.
Cleaning out her desk of papers, shakes her head at the 'nets capers,
Wishing for some cleansing vapors, gets her bags from on the floor,
As she walks her head a shaking, heard just as she shuts the door,
Judith Griggs cries, 'Illadore!'.
I also posted it as a comment in Illadore's journal so she'll see it :-).