West of Burton - mark 2

Ah, Shucks. No further response or comment anew. have a rubbish poem (that is nothing like the linked story at all - in quality or content) as punishment (or encouragement) : Snow doth fall as winter decends in march over the land of Twali't Ul'maar. The gnome of ice and wind scooped his fill from the rivers and oceans to vomit fourth the crystal flakes and expell the winds from his copious haunches. The beasts of earth and sky do cower and be cowed by the mighty power of the falling snow. The trees, confused in march - their previous season of bloom, hold back their flower and fruit of day til warmer air is belched forth. The land is barren in April/June, no fruit doth fall or tubor swell. Beans on stalks lie shrivelled and bleak. No winter more, and sunless march. If you didn't like that, then you will probably like the newest version of 'West of Burton'.