Commission Impossible

Is that rapper 50-Cent looking through a piece of glass?

I like your poem. It really speaks to the dam-building beavers [and hip-hop believers]* in all of us. If I have the time to come up with one, i will.

* Trevor failed to implement the blog rule of at least including an urban beaver related rhyme, so I've added it for him - Lon,

hip-hop is for chumps
drop all that schlock off at the dump
or give it all to a beaver
use it to dam up the sac river

Trevor,

Your rhyming I think rocks,
It shows a certain skill,
From the college of hard knocks,
Those urban beavers got a thrill.

Lon

Ode to the beavers...

Oh little flat tails with your teeth so bright, oh won't you re-build your dam tonite?

Quick to action and through the night, the beaver worked to right their plight!

The men came back with their thorny brows and waded through the little beavers pond like a steam plow....

I wondered in awe in the gleaming moon as I saw the little beavers with shovels and brooms....

And in the end who won out... the comrades of little chico and their lawyers who shout...

For no matter how many times the little beavers try, the men will come back and make them cry....

right now the beavers are totally rockin out
sittin in their dens with their socks hangin out
talkin on the phone to their peeps
sayin, "that lon guy is here for keeps"
"let's cut down this tree,"
"and give it to him for free."

werd.

awww, mark's ode was awesome. brought a tear to my eye.

poor beavers,
i'm a believer.

Mark,

A hero you are,
both wild and free,
A poetic star,
You are to me.

Lon

Lon and trevor and you little beavers too...

You Rock the pond and the hulla balloo...

So keep it going, don't stop the fight..

We're all hip hoppin beavers and we're always right!

Here is a poem I found on line, I think it fits those hip hopping beavers story just fine...

Beaver, Oh Beaver
by David P. Stern

Beaver, oh beaver
Slinking after dark
Chomping down those cherry trees
In West Potomac Park
Beaver, oh beaver
You do not stand a chance
Not when those rangers hunt you down
For messing up their plants.

Beaver, oh beaver
You made one huge mistake
Your life was so much sweeter
In scenic Greenbelt Lake
It's true, you chopped some sweetgums down
And made a royal mess
Still, you were proof that our town
Had real wilderness.

But no! You yearned for city lights
Publicity and fame
The nation's cherished cherry trees
Seemed a much bigger game
And so to Washington you went
Resolved to make your mark
By Jefferson's big monument
To chew on cherry bark.

And then the press went after you
With cameras and lights
While park police with K-9 dogs
Disrupted your quiet nights
Now that they nabbed you, fair and square
You will be relocated--
Just stay away from Greenbelt, where
You aren't appreciated!

Oh where, oh where, has gone Mr. Beaver?

Oh where, oh where can he be?

His home torn down, kids and wife... had to leave her.

Oh, where were his Friends, when needed them he?

Gregg,

While sad I am that beaver has fled,
In our hearts he shall always remain,
For even if fair beaver be dead,
Life is breathed through poems by Payne.

Lon

so, is it 50-cent?

Trevor,

The blog comment rule remains in effect,
To your rhyme I must be deaf,
And so this challenge shall be wrecked,
That rapper shown be Jazzy Jeff.

Lon

FYI that is a street in Britain, so you must be referring to the "Euro Beaver"

http://www.treesforlife.org.uk/tfl.eb.html

Beavers don't protest in the UK, they join boys clubs.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beaver_Scouts

‘Twas a bright starry night and all through the creek
Not a creature was stirring- except one little sneak
Who eagerly worked on his dam with care
In hope schools of fishies soon would swim there.

So as the sun rose he went snug to his bed
And visions of a trout feed danced in his head
He had no idea of what was to hap
And that his dam was creating a whole bunch of cr*p

For at the E/R the phone rang with a clatter
The editors sprang from their desks to hear what was the matter
Away to Chico State a photographer was dispatched
To get pictures and story of this latest news flash

The curious eyes of a professor, we now know,
Saw something at the bottom of the creekbed below
But what to his wondering eyes should appear
Then dead fish in what should be a stream this time of year

So the story was born, so lively and quick,
About the plight of the beaver and the fish in the crik
More rapid than eagles the warriors came
They whistled and shouted and called each other names.

Fish and Game! Parks Department! And Beardsley “That vixen!”
The “Friends” came and of course accused them of fixin’
to ruin that poor beaver…which was not fair at all.
But the order was given “Dash away! Dash away that wall!”

He was dressed in all fur, from his head to his foot,
And he scurried quite quickly to get away from the boot
Of the fish and game men, with picks on their backs
He watched them tear it apart with grunts and with hacks.

But his eyes how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry
He didn’t really seem to be all that scary
He had a broad tail and a little round belly
And it shook now as he laughed at us, like a bowlful of jelly

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Made the parks people think maybe they had more to dread
And that night he spoke not a word, but went straight to his work
And filled all the holes in the dam made by those jerks

A stick and a twig held tight in his teeth
And furry paws filled cracks with mud and with leaf
“Those silly humans” he thought. “Never make a beaver your foe!”
And he worked all night until the sun rose

Then sprang to the dam, to his supporters gave a whistle
“Just like the disc golf course and that darn star thistle!
I’m not going away! I’ll put up a fight!
You can try to tear it down but I’ll rebuild it each night!”

....With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore (1779 - 1863)

Tina,

I fall to my knees,
And bath in your glory,
You rhymed with such ease,
And told such a good story.

Lon