Allow me to hit you with a little Vogon poetry, just to notch one color and break my dry streak.  Seriously, I am shitting this thing out.  It is rank as an outhouse.

A Blue Forest

I came to the edge of a blue forest
The trees were green like brocc’li florets
I came to be whom the world ignorest
Bluebirds sang an electric chorus

The understory was a floral idyll
I came to lay down, to relinquish my will
Yet what time was it? The time to get ill?
Of beastie boys I had clearly my fill

Flowers were alive like a vibrating carpet
Bluebells battered me, the savagest mosh pit
Tossed and beaten ’til I just could not take it
If I had a bone left these petals would break it

You think to lay down, let the roots take you under
You think to escape from the tumult and thunder
But nature’s not gentle, is it any wonder?
The roar of the bluebirds will grant you no slumber.

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