He paints with words and pixels ... with tablet, mouse, and pen.
An expert without parallel, who wins — and wins again.
In Photoshop he weaves a grand and gorgeous tapestry;
the sort of flawless stuff that gets on Snopes eventually.

As if that's not enough, you ought to see what he does next ...
apparently, this guy is also right at home in Text!
His tales are so superbly told, his characters so vivid,
each time I see his mantle, I confess that I grow livid.

Tell me, why can't I write like that? How come my chops all suck?
Why can't I be that talented? Some folks have all the luck!
But just when I'm about to fly into a jealous rage
I scroll down through his stunning stats, and click an entry page.

And there I see an image that enchants me with its skill
or read a story rendered by a poet's gifted quill.
I realize then, he shouldn't be resented ... but admired.
My foolish envy melts away; instead, I am inspired.

Let's raise a glass to Stevie. He's an artist, born and bred.
(Also a modest chap whose face is likely turning red.)
Let's hope that he'll continue to apply his fertile mind
to making Worth1000 the best website of its kind.

A tribute to BonnySaintAndrew

Klickety klack as she sews
Oh, my god, look at that nose!
Over the moon for her clays
Krazy Glue works when she plays
Anything she makes is great
But she never makes anything late
Ugly entries just aren’t her style
Really wish she'd slow down for a while
Ruling MultiMedia world
Amazingly talented girl

My home is far away across the sea
And far from loving family am I
Yet I have found a place where I can be
Welcomed with true loving by and by

For Worth is like a family, it’s true
And every member holds a special place
It seems that some here are the family glue
And some just want to join the trophy race

Our father-figure we all know as Jax
He’s the one who founded this, our home
There is no talent found here that he lacks
Although he does not often write a poem

Anni is our mother, honest and true
A sweeter person never will be found
There is no help that she will not give you
But if you’re bad, she’ll slap you to the ground

Imagarth is the brother we all adore
Anything he does, he does it best
His talent’s amazing; we see his spirit soar
And yet this nice guy helps out all the rest

Eurydice’s our favorite big sister
The organized one who keeps us all on track
And PixelDust, our happy little trickster
Better behave! She won’t give you any slack

Our little sister, Treason, we all love
She’s on the spot with all the helpful links
She likes to tease, but when push comes to shove
She’s got a hug for all who stand on brinks

Beeve’s the aunt who’s always on the mend
She often finds herself in a bloody pool
And yet she’s never met a bitter end
The kids all think that Beeve is totally cool

Exaspera’s an aunt who’s always on the spot
She’s talented, crazy and kind
She teaches you, hugs you, and loves you a lot
To all of your faults she is blind

Mad2, Gutter, Idle: Monkeys all
I’m sure I have forgotten one or two
They make us laugh; with them we have a ball
Just be sure to duck when they fling monkey poo

Brendan’s the cousin who’s so well behaved
Neat and clean, keeps his shoes on a rack
But if you’ve an entry that needs to be saved
He’ll give you the verbal shirt off his back

There’s Kook the Supporter, Checker the Kisser,
CelticFrog, Phroggie and Cap
Lady Min (we all miss her), rob_church is a pisser
IQ, Harry, Doofette, and her pap

Snowy brightens up Bots with her continual “Why?”
TacoBoy and Phildo by the pool
Siglo, Kimbo, HickChick, all with discerning eye
All the little bugs make tvdinner drool

Yes, we are a family, with foibles, friends and fun
Too many to name; I don’t have enough time
If you’re wondering why you’re a missing one
I tried really hard, but your name didn’t rhyme

So join us here in our Worthian home
I’m sure you’ll soon fit in just fine
I hope you’ll forgive my really long poem
But I think this place is divine.

There is a shed deep in the woods
The trees crouch all around
Their limbs are damp, their leaves a-drip
It is a dreary sound

Then from afar there comes a light
Among the boughs it breaks through
Who is it who is drawing near?
The Fearsome Arsidubu!

F.A., he holds his lantern high
A hammer in his off-hand
His eyes, they shift from left to right
His feet, they tread the land

When at the shed, he grasps the knob
He opens the door a sliver
He peers inside with evil grin
The air, it seems to shiver

Inside the shed there sits a box
It trembles as he draws near
He puts the box upon the bench
And roughly pulls its flaps clear

From in the box there is a cry
The two, then three, then more
A trembling mass of fur then parts
Out tumble the kittens of war

Does F.A. then grab them and throw them about?
Does he smash tiny heads with his hands?
Does he feverishly bite them and rend them apart?
Does he pour out their blood on the sands?

No, he sits in the corner and pulls them all near
Has a cuddle and kiss for each one
For Arsi, our very own banhammering dear,
Is a softie who’s second to none.

I walk through rain and mist and grey,
Hart heavy, sole weary, mind numb.
“Why”, I ask,"should I bother,
Bother to fret, bother to care, bother to live?"
HeII at least, is warm, I’m told,
‘cause this heII on earth is much too cold.

When did life become this grey,
become this cold and bleak and sad?
‘twas when she died, that dreadful night.
Could it not have been me instead?
Taken away, from me, my love.
“Why?” I ask, she was so pure.

I walk on, through mist and rain.
People pass, blank stares, cold harts.
I’ll catch the bus at Main and Reef,
And go to her to say goodbye.
Maybe this night I’ll see my love –
if not then, the warmth of heII.

The bus moves on, I stand alone.
I walk past rows and rows of stone.
The dead, at least don’t feel the cold.
Then I'm there, her final rest.
Beneath the soil and grass, she lies
I stand and talk, pray that she hears.

“My love, this life, I cannot live.
Alone, the burden is too great,
I need to know, please let me know.
Should I live, or let it go?
Will you be there when in death I wake?
Send me a sign, for our love's sake.”

I wait and wait, but nothing comes,
No sign, no trace of what to do.
If she had sent a dove of white
I would have known to fly to her
But nothing came, no dove or crow,
just sheets, and sheets of white cold snow.

I turn and walk, in rain and sleet.
I should have known it couldn’t be.
How could she speak, my sweet, sweet wife
or send a sign from the afterlife.
The bus is cold, I take my seat.
I’ll wait for night and do the deed.

I sit and stare, the world goes by.
But then, the sun breaks cloudy skies,
and there escapes, a silvery streak
A single beam of pure lit gold,
brings warmth and light into the world,
a ray of hope now warms my heart.

There, with me, above my seat,
bathed in bright, the light of hope
a Phoenix-bird, with wings set wide.
How could this be, she’s heard my plea?
She sent her sign, I must live on!
This life still holds a need for me?

I cup my hands around this being,
this paper-slip of new found hope.
I will return, first light tomorrow
She’s found a way to sooth my sorrow
This bird that rose from fire and pain
Gives me the hope, to live again.

“To HeyDoofus and Doofette –
I believe that your bus-art touches people, out there maybe even more than inside of Worth”

Your words, your images,
intrigue me.
Over your page,
my eyes wander.
I whisper to myself,
I do, I do so love you.
My hand touches the keyboard
and for a moment my heart stops.
My hands hesitate
and I go silent.
I do not dare to confess my love,
I am so scared to break this spell.
My sweet Worthian
to you my soul belongs
and I wish I was stronger,
that I dared to speak your username.
To give you my bleeding heart,
to be yours and you be mine.
So my beloved, take this poem
as a proof of my love,
that hides in my weakness,
yet burns so strong in my heart.

Your humble servant Cat.

There’s nothing that I’d rather do.
Than come to the place where the monkeys throw poo!
I’m never rude and I use good decorum.
But my entry’s been moved from the all topics forum.

I must have forgotten to read the FAQ
‘cos my Karma’s so low It’ll never come back!
It slipped my mind all those years ago.
See I’ve only just noticed my 50 no-votes!

But I’ll still be here and I’ll bump an old thread.
When I could’ve just started a new one instead
I’ll ask you a question that’s been answered before
Probably answered 50 times or more!

That’s right you guessed I’m a Worthian new[nf]bie.
I’m not a bad person If only you knew me.
I know I’m not quite as good as you yet
But that’s because I’M not a Worth1K Vet.

Give me some time and my trophy’s will soon come.
But I am still learning the basics and then some.
You might feel superior but just try and think back.
To when you first started, before you’d read the FAQ.

We all start somewhere and my place is here
I ask for advice and you lend an ear.
I ask for tuts and people will write some.
I get on your nerves but you still make me welcome.

So thank you to all that didn’t abuse me.
Just because I am a Worth1K new[nf]bie.
And thank you to those who don't find me tiresome.
I’ve found a place where I'm truly welcome.

Sweet Juror (you know who you are)
I love you so much, dear
At work, at home, or in my car
I wish that you were near
You’ve always been my favorite
(Don’t tell the others, though!
For if they ever hear of it
They’ll call me “Lyin’ Ho”)

I never listen when someone
With jealousy undue
Will tell me something you have done
That I know can’t be true
Likewise no heed is given to
The gossipers, you see
Because you’d never say or do
The things they swear to be

And what about the others, hon?
Do they report to me
Each little thing under the sun
You do or say or see?
You bet they do! But never mind
I never listen long
Because if I would check, I’d find
Their statements are all wrong

To give you names for each such pest
Would violate the rules
Of this love poetry contest
(But you can see they’re fools!)
Don’t listen if they tell you, dear
What they have heard me say
For Juror, no one else comes near
To loving you this way

If you could see my loving face
You’d want to put my name
Right there upon the highest place
In Worth’s great Hall of Fame
And just to make sure we are clear
My sweetheart (full of youth!)
Don’t mention this to "them", my dear
They might tell you – the truth!

Just thinking about this great guy
As he slowly blinks that big eye
X-ray vision is always a plus
Only wants to encourage us
Maybe an angel is he
Lacking the wings, don’t you see
Over us, see how he soars
Trying to rally the corps
Under his benevolent gaze
See how we blossom and blaze

Worth is a place where the artists come.
Worth is a home for us all.
Worth is a place where we all can belong.
Worth’s where we all can stand tall.

Photoshop, Sketching, Painting and more.
There’s something for everyone there.
Photographers, Poets, Novelists or…
People who just need a prayer.

There are so many people who’ll give you advice.
So many people will share.
They’ll even share secrets and won’t think twice.
Because Worthian’s genuinely care.

But behind the scenes, hidden away.
Are a group that give up their time for us.
They are modest and kind which is why they won’t say.
But they’re there working without a fuss.

Anni, Meerkat, Lorem and Jax.
Send them a message to see!
That they’ll always reply to whatever you ask.
Even Ava, Eury and PDMT.

I have to give credit to more than those few.
So I’ll mention some more of the crew.
Like Harry, Jinx, Jago, IQ.
Fanatic, Dolly, Arsidubu and Flu.

There’s nothing quite like your dedication.
In being this websites constabulary.
I wish I could show you my appreciation.
But I really don’t have the vocabulary.

So please accept this as my thanks to you.
It’s all I can possibly do.
These words that I write are honest and true.
Admin’s of Worth…

Thank you.