I thought I could best encapsulate the passionate feelings of my sempiternal love for him in poetry: an ode to the athletic Adonis at the gymkhana; but, alas! I was forced to amend my feelings in a palinode when my Greek god turned out to be a brainless jerk. (by sebuck)

{With apologies, I dropped a word in a rewrite}

Arise oh sempiternal love, the days when eyes gaze, hands clasp and the electric charge of nights, gymkhana events in their own right, are the stuff of poetry--she walks in beauty like the night, but nothing is eternal--the marriage, the bills, the kids, the weight of years--and more; had Keats lived long enough his ode, transformed to palinode, would have encapsulated such sad disillusion: She walks in beauty like a nightmare.

(by fdrisc)

Arise oh sempiternal love, the days when eyes gaze, hands clasp and the electric charge of nights, gymkhana events in their own right, are the stuff of poetry--she walks in beauty like the night, but nothing is eternal--the marriage, the bills, the kids, the weight of years--and more; had Keats lived long enough his ode would have been transformed to palinode: She walks in beauty like a nightmare.

(by fdrisc)

Of all the remarkable spectacle and athletic prowess that went on display during the gymkhana marking the Queen's seventy-fifth year on the throne, the highlight had to have been the presentation by the poet laureate, who, having been commissioned to pen a work that would encapsulate the sempiternal wisdom of the nation's soul, delivered the following palinode which quite literally left the old monarch with her mouth hanging open: "Roses are red But violets aren't blue; They're technically more Of a purple-ish hue." (by Gravely)