The Blaze of Betta, Part Three

Moist earth did soothe their hurts, and, too, did hide
The fighters Mallajore sought to destroy.
From viscious venomed welts were Betta's side
Protected for the nonce. But soon this ploy
Like all their others would fail as its flaw
Was witnessed by the wizard, whose commands
The earth itself betimes obeyed. No law
Could thwart his will, no merely mortal hands
When raised against him, ever knew success.
E'en as these thoughts crossed Betta's mind there came
New mire-bourne horrors groping at them. "Lest
"These things reach up and throttle us, let's claim
"A dozen with each blow!" she she cried, and rose,
And through great clouds of insects, smote her foes.

Caveat Susceptor

A sleepless night again, but on this day
She had to be alert, give that report
On morning network news! There was a way,
But dare she once again dare to resort
To Smarty Mist(tm)? Its synapse aid
Was of the highest quality, but she
Had used it often this year, and she'd made
The observation that there seemed to be
Diminishing returns. But on the line
Was nothing less than everything. One puff!
Ah yes! But soon the nanites in her mind --
Alas for hacked inhalers! -- made her huff
Some more, and then, instead of global peace
Had her extolling time shares now for lease.

The Blaze of Betta, Part Two

Quoth Mallajore, in terror at the scene,
"Who is this bitch, how dares she here to fight
My forces?" No one answered as the lean
And muscled woman laughed off a fierce bite
From wolven jaws and brought her hammer down
To crush the monster who'd attacked her. "Fly,
My demon-spawn" the wizard said "Reknown
Throughout the ages, even if you die
Destroying her, is yours!" The sound of wings
And buzzing drowned his cries as did obey
His minions! A barrage of bites and stings
Made worse the clash of armies as the fray
Grew mightier. And soon, besmeared in blood,
Did Betta and her fighters hide in mud.

Donnie the Kid, Part One

His first day on George Fox’s high plains spread,
They called him “kid” e’en though he was fourteen.
Kid he remained for days and weeks, his bed
Out ‘neath the stars, where kids sleep. In between
Those chilly nights he worked hard, but still “kid”
Was what they called him. Then, one scorching day
When he had had enough, he stopped amid
Shit shoveling and other chores to say
To the old supervising hands “You know
I’m not a kid.” “You ain’t a cowboy yet,”
The hands all told him. “You got far to go.
We ain’t seen you do what you’ve gotta. Get
The irrigation shovel. Go five miles
Then we’ll tell you what’s next.” “There’s more?” “Oh, piles!”

The Blaze of Betta, Part One

The blinding glint of armor in the sun
Might terrify a lesser band. The blaze
Of Betta, though, outshone them, ev’ry one,
Each foe-worn helm or breastplate. Her fierce gaze
Gave courage to her fighters as they charged
And shouted, Betta’s hammer in the lead
(A captured weapon she had much enlarged
While at the smithy). Not so much for greed
As for the rights of all who dared to stand
Upon two legs, did Betta’s side crack skulls
(Though some of them might now and then demand
Some minor spoils shared out throughout the hulls
Of Betta’s ships). Commenceth thus the war
Against the slaver-wizard Mallajore!