World of Warcraft®

In the shameless self-interest of more periodicals for our leisure reading collection, The Royal Library is pleased to debut "Scribbles," an open journal of verse for all the Horde.

Consider this a home for your sonnets, limericks, haiku, plain verse, romantic ballads, epic songs, and all outpourings of imagination that take some form of rhyme or meter.

Submissions are open, uncurated, and honest. Our goal is to give a platform to all the voices of the Horde, not merely an academic or political elite.

Blank pages and binding are provided courtesy of The Royal Library. Simply append your creations to the latest edition, and the "Scribbles" collection will grow as it is passed from hand to hand!

Arjah
Editor & Acting Head Librarian
The Royal Library of Silvermoon

Variations on "Librarian
by Arjah

Librarian, librarian,
against the mode contrarian
of our fanatical, barbarian
rude selves,

I hope you find in tarrying
'mongst stacks of antiquarian
volumes a proper clarion
to delve

beyond the rough sectarian
veneers of modern harryings
and 'mind us of the wit still buried in
your shelves!

<Typed almost without errors on Inquisition letterhead.>

Bubble Trouble
~Falchion

Workin’ for the Dread Lord,
The pay ain’t too bad.
But watchin’ out for his ward,
Is driving me a bit mad.

That girl is always in trouble,
Makin’ me earn my keep.
Thank the gods she has a bubble,
And good thing I’ve no need for sleep.

But now she’s off in Draenor,
Prob’ly causing a ruckus,
Or shakin’ it up on the dance floor,
Although, I kinda miss her – she took my favorite cutlass.

<A handwritten addendum at the bottom of the submission makes note of the fact that a well-crafted shield may also be missing, but the rhyme just couldn't be made be made to work as evidenced by the multiple phrases that had been crossed out.>

An Ode to Gnomes:
by — Anonymous Tauren Mage
-------------------------------------------------
Everyone's all puntin' gnomes
I don't really see the point
they're just tryin' ta save their home
..by blowing up the joint.

Sure they're kinda crazy,
a little "on the ledge"
and yeah, they came from robots
and their bets they tend to hedge

but truth be told I love em
can't say why, just do
and never would I punt one
nor, I think, should you

see, they've got these awesome thinkers
minds open like the sky
just super little tinkers
who make machines that really fly!

and, between jest you an' me
what really "toots my hoot"?
Those twinkling gnomette ladies?
They're a whole new world of cute.

The Lady and the Gambler

A young man I meant once out on the grey strand
With a packet of cards and his dice in his hand
And he spake not a word as he went on his way
But only sang la ta dum, la ta dum day.

Quoth I to the gambler, why pass you me by
With nary a word, nor a wink of your eye
See you such a fine lass go by every day?
Quoth he to me la ta dum, la ta dum day.

With drinking or sorrows hast thou lost thy tongue,
With shortness of wits so rare for so young
Or ist but my beauty that makes thee this way?
Sang he to me la ta dum, la ta dum day.

In a turn of the cards, quoth I to him then
May fortunes be lost and soon won again
Speak then, hast thou debts, that thou canst not pay?
Replied the young gambler, oh la ta dum day.

Good sir, spread thy cards, I laughing then said,
And let us together see how fortune's read
There's many a man for my service would pay,
But thee I'll charge only thy la ta dum day.

His cards he then gave with a trembling hand,
And merrily threw I them on the grey strand
Oh gambler, thy fortunes, I told the man gay,
Shall never be fairer than la ta dum day.

There's staves stand for battle, there's cups stand for whores,
There's hearts for the mothers that sigh for the wars,
There's suit for each woe in our poor world today,
But none for the singing of la ta dum day.

Leave gambling and prophecy on the grey strand,
Leave wars for the warriors, and take thou my hand,
Leaver prayer for the preachers, and with me then pray,
No more than our la ta dum, la ta dum day.

So off we together along the grey strand
The gambler and lady did walk hand in hand
And never a word to the weeping we say
But la ta dum, la ta dum, la ta dum day.