There's nothing like Christmas to bring out the rhymester in me. Im fact, it's becoming a bit of a tradition. Starting with the following:
Compliments of the Season
As the yuletide season nears
I thought I'd take the time
To send a greeting to you all
And compose this little rhyme.
I've racked my brains for something new
To say that won't sound trite,
But everything's been done to death.
I just can't get it right!
Like "Wish you well on this Noel"
Or "Have a Cool Yule!"
Or "Hark! The merry yuletide bell!"
(Oh! Come on! Think, you fool!)
I guess I'll have to face the facts
It's an impossible mission.
And after all, it's Christmas time!
So why break with tradition?
To everyone who reads these lines
This wish rings loud and clear
Have a Very Merry Christmas
And the Happiest New Year!!!
Then there was the one I wrote when I was working at the fish and chip shop and working Christmas Eve:
Merry Fishmas and a Chippy New Year!
'Tis the night before Christmas, and all through the place
The fishcakes are vanishing without a trace.
The fish, the sausages, the chicken, the pies
Disappearing like magic before our eyes!
The pace is so hectic, the fryer feels frazzled
While the counter assistants are dazed and bedazzled!
The till's begun smoking - it can't take much more!
And still we've got people pouring in through the door!
The shop's full to bursting - we can't fit them all in,
And if this was a pub, we'd yell "No room at the inn!"
But the tide of humanity is now ebbing away
And all is at peace at the end of the day.
Still one thing remains for the staff here to do.
Here's our Christmas message to each one of you.
To quote C C Moore (and I hope that's alright!)
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
Then three years ago, this one:
A Christmas Toast
The Christmas season is almost here.
The shops are filled with delights.
Everyone's busily wrapping up gifts
And untangling fairy lights.
But at this time of year it's nice to recall
The loved ones who matter the most.
So to all of the people who enrich my life
I'd like to raise this toast!
May your days be blessed with happiness,
Your nights with peaceful dreams,
And may you find fulfilment
And success in all your schemes!
And now, here's my latest effort!
Christmas List
Here's Santa in his workshop.
He's looking pretty p****d
'Cos some great thieving mongrel's
Gone and pinched his Christmas list!
How's he gonna know for sure
If a child's been good or bad?
And if that list doesn't show up soon,
He's gonna get quite mad!
The elves are getting nervous
As the accusations fly,
And they're on the verge of walking out!
What a catastrophe! Oh, my!
The reindeer are indignant
To be turfed out of their stable
While Santa searches frantically,
Upturning everything he's able.
Then, just as all looks hopeless
And Santa's fit to drop,
In rushes Mrs Claus saying
"I've just been to the shop,
To get some last-minute items,
And you won't guess what I've done!
I pulled out my list - and lo and behold!
I'd picked up the wrong one!"
Well, Santa stood there staring
At his wife through tears of joy!
Then with great haste he loaded up
His sleigh with every toy.
He apologised to all his friends
For his behaviour all that day
And promised that they'd find
A little extra in their pay!
So, calamity averted,
Santa sped off on his way
To deliver all the presents.
Then came home at break of day.
His missus stood there waiting
With a surprise in store -
She said "It's a technological age!
Who needs written lists any more?
I've bought us both a laptop
Yours is blue and mine is pink,
So we can tell them both apart."
She said, "Now. What do you think?"
"Oh! Clever, clever woman!"
Santa cried, "What a great idea!
I'll start a spreadsheet to keep a tab
On the chidren from year to year!"
Well, I suppose it was inevitable,
Even necessary, on the whole,
That technology would eventually
Find it's way to the North Pole!
And finally...
I hope that you've enjoyed my rhymes.
It's always been my passion
To make my readers smile, and bring some ease,
After a fashion.
And though I know it's early still
(November's not yet done)
Here's a heartfelt wish from me to you...
Merry Christmas, everyone!!!
Sunday 14 November 2010
Friday 5 November 2010
Some More of my Favourite Poems
The Lion and Albert
There's a famous seaside place called Blackpool,
That's noted for fresh air and fun,
And Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom
Went there with young Albert, their son.
A grand little lad was young Albert,
All dressed in his best; quite a swell
With a stick with an 'orse's 'ead 'andle,
The finest that Woolworth's could sell.
They didn't think much of the Ocean:
The waves, they were fiddlin' and small,
There was no wrecks and nobody drownded,
Fact, nothing to laugh at at all.
So, seeking for further amusement,
They paid and went into the Zoo,
Where they'd Lions and Tigers and Camels,
And old ale and sandwiches too.
There were one great big Lion called Wallace;
His nose were all covered with scars -
He lay in a somnolent posture,
With the side of his face on the bars.
Now Albert had heard about Lions,
How they was ferocious and wild -
To see Wallace lying so peaceful,
Well, it didn't seem right to the child.
So straightway the brave little feller,
Not showing a morsel of fear,
Took his stick with its 'orse's 'ead 'andle
And pushed it in Wallace's ear.
You could see that the Lion didn't like it,
For giving a kind of a roll,
He pulled Albert inside the cage with 'im,
And swallowed the little lad 'ole.
Then Pa, who had seen the occurrence,
And didn't know what to do next,
Said 'Mother! Yon Lion's 'et Albert',
And Mother said 'Well, I am vexed!'
Then Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom -
Quite rightly, when all's said and done -
Complained to the Animal Keeper,
That the Lion had eaten their son.
The keeper was quite nice about it;
He said 'What a nasty mishap.
Are you sure that it's your boy he's eaten?'
Pa said "Am I sure? There's his cap!'
The manager had to be sent for.
He came and he said 'What's to do?'
Pa said 'Yon Lion's 'et Albert,
'And 'im in his Sunday clothes, too.'
Then Mother said, 'Right's right, young feller;
I think it's a shame and a sin,
For a lion to go and eat Albert,
And after we've paid to come in.'
The manager wanted no trouble,
He took out his purse right away,
Saying 'How much to settle the matter?'
And Pa said "What do you usually pay?'
But Mother had turned a bit awkward
When she thought where her Albert had gone.
She said 'No! someone's got to be summonsed' -
So that was decided upon.
Then off they went to the P'lice Station,
In front of the Magistrate chap;
They told 'im what happened to Albert,
And proved it by showing his cap.
The Magistrate gave his opinion
That no one was really to blame
And he said that he hoped the Ramsbottoms
Would have further sons to their name.
At that Mother got proper blazing,
'And thank you, sir, kindly,' said she.
'What waste all our lives raising children
To feed ruddy Lions? Not me!'
Marriott Edgar
Faithless Nelly Gray
Ben Battle was a soldier bold,
And used to war's alarms;
But a cannon-ball took off his legs,
So he laid down his arms.
Now as they bore him off the field,
Said he, 'Let others shoot;
For here I leave my second leg,
And the Forty-second Foot.'
The army-surgeons made him limbs:
Said he, 'They're only pegs;
But there's as wooden members quite,
As represent my legs.'
Now Ben he loved a pretty maid, --
Her name was Nelly Gray;
So he went to pay her his devours,
When he devoured his pay.
But when he called on Nelly Gray,
She made him quite a scoff;
And when she saw his wooden legs,
Began to take them off.
'O Nelly Gray! O Nelly Gray!'
Is this your love so warm?
The love that loves a scarlet coat
Should be a little more uniform.
Said she, ' I loved a soldier once,
For he was blithe and brave;
But I will never have a man
With both legs in the grave
'Before you had those timber toes
Your love I did allow;
But then, you know, you stand upon
Another footing now.'
'O Nelly Gray! O Nelly Gray!
For all your jeering speeches,
At duty's call I left my legs
In Badajos's breaches.'
'Why, then,' said she, 'you've lost the feet
Of legs in war's alarms,
And now you cannot wear your shoes
Upon your feats of arms!'
'O false and fickle Nelly Gray!
I know why you refuse:
Though I've no feet, some other man
Is standing in my shoes.
'I wish I ne'er had seen your face;
But, now, a long farewell!
For you will be my death' -- alas!
You will not be my Nell!'
Now when he went from Nelly Gray
His heart so heavy got,
And life was such a burden grown,
It made him take a knot.
So round his melancholy neck
A rope he did intwine,
And, for his second time in life,
Enlisted in the Line.
One end he tied around a beam,
And then removed his pegs;
And, as his legs were off -- of course
He soon was off his legs.
And there he hung till he was dead
As any nail in town;
For, though distress had cut him up,
It could not cut him down.
A dozen men sat on his corpse,
To find out why he died, --
And they buried Ben in four cross-roads
With a stake in his inside.
Thomas Hood
The Tale of Custard the Dragon
Belinda lived in a little white house,
With a little black kitten and a little gray mouse,
And a little yellow dog and a little red wagon,
And a realio, trulio, little pet dragon.
Now the name of the little black kitten was Ink,
And the little gray mouse, she called her Blink,
And the little yellow dog was sharp as Mustard,
But the dragon was a coward, and she called him Custard.
Custard the dragon had big sharp teeth,
And spikes on top of him and scales underneath,
Mouth like a fireplace, chimney for a nose,
And realio, trulio, daggers on his toes.
Belinda was as brave as a barrel full of bears,
And Ink and Blink chased lions down the stairs,
Mustard was as brave as a tiger in a rage,
But Custard cried for a nice safe cage.
Belinda tickled him, she tickled him unmerciful,
Ink, Blink and Mustard, they rudely called him Percival,
They all sat laughing in the little red wagon
At the realio, trulio, cowardly dragon.
Belinda giggled till she shook the house,
And Blink said Week!, which is giggling for a mouse,
Ink and Mustard rudely asked his age,
When Custard cried for a nice safe cage.
Suddenly, suddenly they heard a nasty sound,
And Mustard growled, and they all looked around.
Meowch! cried Ink, and Ooh! cried Belinda,
For there was a pirate, climbing in the winda.
Pistol in his left hand, pistol in his right,
And he held in his teeth a cutlass bright,
His beard was black, one leg was wood;
It was clear that the pirate meant no good.
Belinda paled, and she cried, Help! Help!
But Mustard fled with a terrified yelp,
Ink trickled down to the bottom of the household,
And little mouse Blink strategically mouseholed.
But up jumped Custard, snorting like an engine,
Clashed his tail like irons in a dungeon,
With a clatter and a clank and a jangling squirm
He went at the pirate like a robin at a worm.
The pirate gaped at Belinda's dragon,
And gulped some grog from his pocket flagon,
He fired two bullets but they didn't hit,
And Custard gobbled him, every bit.
Belinda embraced him, Mustard licked him,
No one mourned for his pirate victim
Ink and Blink in glee did gyrate
Around the dragon that ate the pyrate.
Belinda still lives in her little white house,
With her little black kitten and her little gray mouse,
And her little yellow dog and her little red wagon,
And her realio, trulio, little pet dragon.
Belinda is as brave as a barrel full of bears,
And Ink and Blink chase lions down the stairs,
Mustard is as brave as a tiger in a rage,
But Custard keeps crying for a nice safe cage.
Ogden Nash
There's a famous seaside place called Blackpool,
That's noted for fresh air and fun,
And Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom
Went there with young Albert, their son.
A grand little lad was young Albert,
All dressed in his best; quite a swell
With a stick with an 'orse's 'ead 'andle,
The finest that Woolworth's could sell.
They didn't think much of the Ocean:
The waves, they were fiddlin' and small,
There was no wrecks and nobody drownded,
Fact, nothing to laugh at at all.
So, seeking for further amusement,
They paid and went into the Zoo,
Where they'd Lions and Tigers and Camels,
And old ale and sandwiches too.
There were one great big Lion called Wallace;
His nose were all covered with scars -
He lay in a somnolent posture,
With the side of his face on the bars.
Now Albert had heard about Lions,
How they was ferocious and wild -
To see Wallace lying so peaceful,
Well, it didn't seem right to the child.
So straightway the brave little feller,
Not showing a morsel of fear,
Took his stick with its 'orse's 'ead 'andle
And pushed it in Wallace's ear.
You could see that the Lion didn't like it,
For giving a kind of a roll,
He pulled Albert inside the cage with 'im,
And swallowed the little lad 'ole.
Then Pa, who had seen the occurrence,
And didn't know what to do next,
Said 'Mother! Yon Lion's 'et Albert',
And Mother said 'Well, I am vexed!'
Then Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom -
Quite rightly, when all's said and done -
Complained to the Animal Keeper,
That the Lion had eaten their son.
The keeper was quite nice about it;
He said 'What a nasty mishap.
Are you sure that it's your boy he's eaten?'
Pa said "Am I sure? There's his cap!'
The manager had to be sent for.
He came and he said 'What's to do?'
Pa said 'Yon Lion's 'et Albert,
'And 'im in his Sunday clothes, too.'
Then Mother said, 'Right's right, young feller;
I think it's a shame and a sin,
For a lion to go and eat Albert,
And after we've paid to come in.'
The manager wanted no trouble,
He took out his purse right away,
Saying 'How much to settle the matter?'
And Pa said "What do you usually pay?'
But Mother had turned a bit awkward
When she thought where her Albert had gone.
She said 'No! someone's got to be summonsed' -
So that was decided upon.
Then off they went to the P'lice Station,
In front of the Magistrate chap;
They told 'im what happened to Albert,
And proved it by showing his cap.
The Magistrate gave his opinion
That no one was really to blame
And he said that he hoped the Ramsbottoms
Would have further sons to their name.
At that Mother got proper blazing,
'And thank you, sir, kindly,' said she.
'What waste all our lives raising children
To feed ruddy Lions? Not me!'
Marriott Edgar
Faithless Nelly Gray
Ben Battle was a soldier bold,
And used to war's alarms;
But a cannon-ball took off his legs,
So he laid down his arms.
Now as they bore him off the field,
Said he, 'Let others shoot;
For here I leave my second leg,
And the Forty-second Foot.'
The army-surgeons made him limbs:
Said he, 'They're only pegs;
But there's as wooden members quite,
As represent my legs.'
Now Ben he loved a pretty maid, --
Her name was Nelly Gray;
So he went to pay her his devours,
When he devoured his pay.
But when he called on Nelly Gray,
She made him quite a scoff;
And when she saw his wooden legs,
Began to take them off.
'O Nelly Gray! O Nelly Gray!'
Is this your love so warm?
The love that loves a scarlet coat
Should be a little more uniform.
Said she, ' I loved a soldier once,
For he was blithe and brave;
But I will never have a man
With both legs in the grave
'Before you had those timber toes
Your love I did allow;
But then, you know, you stand upon
Another footing now.'
'O Nelly Gray! O Nelly Gray!
For all your jeering speeches,
At duty's call I left my legs
In Badajos's breaches.'
'Why, then,' said she, 'you've lost the feet
Of legs in war's alarms,
And now you cannot wear your shoes
Upon your feats of arms!'
'O false and fickle Nelly Gray!
I know why you refuse:
Though I've no feet, some other man
Is standing in my shoes.
'I wish I ne'er had seen your face;
But, now, a long farewell!
For you will be my death' -- alas!
You will not be my Nell!'
Now when he went from Nelly Gray
His heart so heavy got,
And life was such a burden grown,
It made him take a knot.
So round his melancholy neck
A rope he did intwine,
And, for his second time in life,
Enlisted in the Line.
One end he tied around a beam,
And then removed his pegs;
And, as his legs were off -- of course
He soon was off his legs.
And there he hung till he was dead
As any nail in town;
For, though distress had cut him up,
It could not cut him down.
A dozen men sat on his corpse,
To find out why he died, --
And they buried Ben in four cross-roads
With a stake in his inside.
Thomas Hood
The Tale of Custard the Dragon
Belinda lived in a little white house,
With a little black kitten and a little gray mouse,
And a little yellow dog and a little red wagon,
And a realio, trulio, little pet dragon.
Now the name of the little black kitten was Ink,
And the little gray mouse, she called her Blink,
And the little yellow dog was sharp as Mustard,
But the dragon was a coward, and she called him Custard.
Custard the dragon had big sharp teeth,
And spikes on top of him and scales underneath,
Mouth like a fireplace, chimney for a nose,
And realio, trulio, daggers on his toes.
Belinda was as brave as a barrel full of bears,
And Ink and Blink chased lions down the stairs,
Mustard was as brave as a tiger in a rage,
But Custard cried for a nice safe cage.
Belinda tickled him, she tickled him unmerciful,
Ink, Blink and Mustard, they rudely called him Percival,
They all sat laughing in the little red wagon
At the realio, trulio, cowardly dragon.
Belinda giggled till she shook the house,
And Blink said Week!, which is giggling for a mouse,
Ink and Mustard rudely asked his age,
When Custard cried for a nice safe cage.
Suddenly, suddenly they heard a nasty sound,
And Mustard growled, and they all looked around.
Meowch! cried Ink, and Ooh! cried Belinda,
For there was a pirate, climbing in the winda.
Pistol in his left hand, pistol in his right,
And he held in his teeth a cutlass bright,
His beard was black, one leg was wood;
It was clear that the pirate meant no good.
Belinda paled, and she cried, Help! Help!
But Mustard fled with a terrified yelp,
Ink trickled down to the bottom of the household,
And little mouse Blink strategically mouseholed.
But up jumped Custard, snorting like an engine,
Clashed his tail like irons in a dungeon,
With a clatter and a clank and a jangling squirm
He went at the pirate like a robin at a worm.
The pirate gaped at Belinda's dragon,
And gulped some grog from his pocket flagon,
He fired two bullets but they didn't hit,
And Custard gobbled him, every bit.
Belinda embraced him, Mustard licked him,
No one mourned for his pirate victim
Ink and Blink in glee did gyrate
Around the dragon that ate the pyrate.
Belinda still lives in her little white house,
With her little black kitten and her little gray mouse,
And her little yellow dog and her little red wagon,
And her realio, trulio, little pet dragon.
Belinda is as brave as a barrel full of bears,
And Ink and Blink chase lions down the stairs,
Mustard is as brave as a tiger in a rage,
But Custard keeps crying for a nice safe cage.
Ogden Nash
Saturday 30 October 2010
Sending You an Angel
I'm sending you an Angel
To keep you safe and sound.
To watch you and protect you
When I am not around.
I'm sending you an Angel
To guard you all your days
And guide you on life's pathway
When it becomes a maze.
I'm sending you an Angel
To help you comprehend
How very much you mean to me,
My truest, closest friend!
(This was written originally to cheer up a very dear friend when she was feeling blue after losing her mother, who was also my best friend! RIP Nikki! We all miss you! Here's a rhyme in your honour.)
Angels are Rare
When someone touches your heart and soul,
Shines through the dark like a star,
Brings out the very best in you,
Becomes part of who you are.
You know you've been blessed a thousandfold
And this debt you can never repay.
For Angels are rare and Saints are few
And miracles aren't seen every day.
Sadly you were only mortal, my friend,
But you'll always be special to me.
I need you to know how I miss you.
You'll live on in my memory.
To keep you safe and sound.
To watch you and protect you
When I am not around.
I'm sending you an Angel
To guard you all your days
And guide you on life's pathway
When it becomes a maze.
I'm sending you an Angel
To help you comprehend
How very much you mean to me,
My truest, closest friend!
(This was written originally to cheer up a very dear friend when she was feeling blue after losing her mother, who was also my best friend! RIP Nikki! We all miss you! Here's a rhyme in your honour.)
Angels are Rare
When someone touches your heart and soul,
Shines through the dark like a star,
Brings out the very best in you,
Becomes part of who you are.
You know you've been blessed a thousandfold
And this debt you can never repay.
For Angels are rare and Saints are few
And miracles aren't seen every day.
Sadly you were only mortal, my friend,
But you'll always be special to me.
I need you to know how I miss you.
You'll live on in my memory.
Ode to a Lightbulb
I dedicate these lines to you.
There never was a friend so true.
When darkness falls, you heed my call:
Spread luminescence over all.
You brighten up the darkest night,
But when you die - poof! - there goes light!
And yet, no tears are shed for thee,
Who gives your life that we may see.
O loyal friend, so round and white,
I honour thee, as is your right!
(This verse was written in one of my many silly moments, which, I have to admit, are growing in frequency as the years roll by! Oh! And just to prove my point, here comes another one!)
Child of Our Time
O, pity the poor unfortunate child,
Neglected and forlorn!
No-one to care for or nurture him:
He didn't ask to be born!
All he wants is a happy home
And food to fill his belly -
Designer clothes, mobile, a PS3
And a huge LCD telly!
There never was a friend so true.
When darkness falls, you heed my call:
Spread luminescence over all.
You brighten up the darkest night,
But when you die - poof! - there goes light!
And yet, no tears are shed for thee,
Who gives your life that we may see.
O loyal friend, so round and white,
I honour thee, as is your right!
(This verse was written in one of my many silly moments, which, I have to admit, are growing in frequency as the years roll by! Oh! And just to prove my point, here comes another one!)
Child of Our Time
O, pity the poor unfortunate child,
Neglected and forlorn!
No-one to care for or nurture him:
He didn't ask to be born!
All he wants is a happy home
And food to fill his belly -
Designer clothes, mobile, a PS3
And a huge LCD telly!
Saturday 25 September 2010
More Beloved Poems
Here are some of my favourite poems from the Reverend Charles Lutwidge Dodson, aka Lewis Carroll!
Jabberwocky
'Twas brilig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
All mimsy were the borogoves
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son;
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand.
Long time the manxome foe he sought -
So rested he, by the Tumtum tree
And stood awhile, in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack,
And left it dead - and with it's head
He went galumphing back.
"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh, Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brilig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
All mimsy were the borogoves
And the mome raths outgrabe.
You Are Old Father William
"You are old, Father William," the young man said,
"And your hair has become very white.
And yet you incessantly stand on your head.
Do you think, at your age, it is right?"
"In my youth," Father William replied to his son,
"I feared it might injure the brain,
But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why! I do it again and again!"
"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before,
And have grown most uncommonly fat!
Yet you turned a back somersault in at the door!
Pray, what is the reason for that?"
"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
"I kept all my limbs very supple,
By the use of this ointment - one shilling the box!
Allow me to sell you a couple!"
"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet.
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak!
Pray, how did you manage to do it?"
"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife.
And the muscular strength which it gave to my jaw
Has lasted the rest of my life!"
"You are old," said the youth. "One would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever,
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose!
What made you so awfully clever?"
"I have answered three questions, and that is enough!"
Said his father, "Don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you downstairs!"
How Doth the Little Crocodile...
How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tale
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every golden scale.
How cheerfully he seems to grin!
How neatly spread his claws!
And welcomes little fishes in
With gently smiling jaws.
'Tis the Voice of the Lobster
'Tis the voice of the lobster. I heard him declare,
"You have baked me too brown! I must sugar my hair!"
As a duck, with it's eyelids, so he, with his nose,
Trims his belt and his buttons and turns out his toes.
When the sands are all dry, he's as gay as a lark
And will talk, in contemptuous tones, of the shark.
But, when the tide rises, and sharks are around
His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.
I passed by his garden, and marked, with one eye,
How the owl and the panther were sharing a pie.
The panther took pie-crust, and gravy, and meat,
While the owl had the dish as it's share of the treat.
When the pie was all finished, the owl, as a boon,
Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon.
While the panther received knife and fork with a growl
And concluded the banquet.......by eating the owl!
And now one or two by Pam Ayres!
I am a Witney Blanket
I am a Witney blanket
Original and best.
You know you'll never get cold feet
With me across your chest!
I am a Dry-Stone Waller
I am a dry-stone waller.
All day I dry-stone wall.
Of all appalling callings
Dry-stone walling's worst of all!
Jabberwocky
'Twas brilig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
All mimsy were the borogoves
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son;
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand.
Long time the manxome foe he sought -
So rested he, by the Tumtum tree
And stood awhile, in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack,
And left it dead - and with it's head
He went galumphing back.
"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh, Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brilig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
All mimsy were the borogoves
And the mome raths outgrabe.
You Are Old Father William
"You are old, Father William," the young man said,
"And your hair has become very white.
And yet you incessantly stand on your head.
Do you think, at your age, it is right?"
"In my youth," Father William replied to his son,
"I feared it might injure the brain,
But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why! I do it again and again!"
"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before,
And have grown most uncommonly fat!
Yet you turned a back somersault in at the door!
Pray, what is the reason for that?"
"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
"I kept all my limbs very supple,
By the use of this ointment - one shilling the box!
Allow me to sell you a couple!"
"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet.
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak!
Pray, how did you manage to do it?"
"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife.
And the muscular strength which it gave to my jaw
Has lasted the rest of my life!"
"You are old," said the youth. "One would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever,
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose!
What made you so awfully clever?"
"I have answered three questions, and that is enough!"
Said his father, "Don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you downstairs!"
How Doth the Little Crocodile...
How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tale
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every golden scale.
How cheerfully he seems to grin!
How neatly spread his claws!
And welcomes little fishes in
With gently smiling jaws.
'Tis the Voice of the Lobster
'Tis the voice of the lobster. I heard him declare,
"You have baked me too brown! I must sugar my hair!"
As a duck, with it's eyelids, so he, with his nose,
Trims his belt and his buttons and turns out his toes.
When the sands are all dry, he's as gay as a lark
And will talk, in contemptuous tones, of the shark.
But, when the tide rises, and sharks are around
His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.
I passed by his garden, and marked, with one eye,
How the owl and the panther were sharing a pie.
The panther took pie-crust, and gravy, and meat,
While the owl had the dish as it's share of the treat.
When the pie was all finished, the owl, as a boon,
Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon.
While the panther received knife and fork with a growl
And concluded the banquet.......by eating the owl!
And now one or two by Pam Ayres!
I am a Witney Blanket
I am a Witney blanket
Original and best.
You know you'll never get cold feet
With me across your chest!
I am a Dry-Stone Waller
I am a dry-stone waller.
All day I dry-stone wall.
Of all appalling callings
Dry-stone walling's worst of all!
Poems I Enjoyed as a Child
Weather
Whether the weather be fine,
Or whether the weather be not,
Whether the weather be cold,
Or whether the weather be hot,
We'll weather the weather
Whatever the weather,
Whether we like it or not!
Anon
A Calendar
January brings the snow,
Makes our feet and fingers glow.
February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.
March brings breezes, loud and shrill,
To stir the dancing daffodil.
April brings the primrose sweet,
Scatters daisies at our feet.
May brings flocks of pretty lambs
Skipping by their fleecy dams.
June brings tulips, lilies, roses,
Fills the children's hands with posies.
Hot July brings cooling showers,
Apricots and gillyflowers.
August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is borne.
Warm September brings the fruit;
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.
Fresh October brings the pheasant;
Then to gather nuts is pleasant.
Dull November brings the blast;
Then the leaves are whirling fast.
Chill December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire, and Christmas treat.
Sara Coleridge
What Is Pink?
What is pink? A rose is pink
By the fountain's brink.
What is red? A poppy's red
In it's barley bed.
What is blue? The sky is blue
Where the clouds float through.
What is white? A swan is white
Sailing in the light.
What is yellow? Pears are yellow,
Rich and ripe and mellow.
What is green? The grass is green,
With small flowers between.
What is violet? Clouds are violet
In the summer twilight.
What is orange? Why, an orange,
Just an orange!
Christina Georgina Rossetti
Two Little Kittens
Two little kittens, one stormy night,
Began to quarrel, and then to fight;
One had a mouse, the other had none,
And that's the way the quarrel begun.
"I'll have that mouse," said the biggest cat;
"You'll have that mouse? We'll see about that!"
"I will have that mouse," said the eldest son;
"You shan't have the mouse," said the little one.
I told you before 'twas a stormy night
When those two little kittens began to fight;
The old woman seized her sweeping broom,
And swept the two kittens right out of the room.
The ground was covered in frost and snow,
And the two little kittens had nowhere to go;
So they laid them down on the mat at the door,
While the old woman finished sweeping the floor.
Then they crept in, as quiet as mice,
All wet with the snow, and as cold as ice,
For they found it was better, that stormy night,
To lie down and sleep than to quarrel and fight.
Anon
Time to Rise
A birdie with a yellow bill
Hopped upon the window-sill,
Cocked his shining eye and said:
'Ain't you 'shamed, you sleepy-head?
Robert Louis Stevenson
Whether the weather be fine,
Or whether the weather be not,
Whether the weather be cold,
Or whether the weather be hot,
We'll weather the weather
Whatever the weather,
Whether we like it or not!
Anon
A Calendar
January brings the snow,
Makes our feet and fingers glow.
February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.
March brings breezes, loud and shrill,
To stir the dancing daffodil.
April brings the primrose sweet,
Scatters daisies at our feet.
May brings flocks of pretty lambs
Skipping by their fleecy dams.
June brings tulips, lilies, roses,
Fills the children's hands with posies.
Hot July brings cooling showers,
Apricots and gillyflowers.
August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is borne.
Warm September brings the fruit;
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.
Fresh October brings the pheasant;
Then to gather nuts is pleasant.
Dull November brings the blast;
Then the leaves are whirling fast.
Chill December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire, and Christmas treat.
Sara Coleridge
What Is Pink?
What is pink? A rose is pink
By the fountain's brink.
What is red? A poppy's red
In it's barley bed.
What is blue? The sky is blue
Where the clouds float through.
What is white? A swan is white
Sailing in the light.
What is yellow? Pears are yellow,
Rich and ripe and mellow.
What is green? The grass is green,
With small flowers between.
What is violet? Clouds are violet
In the summer twilight.
What is orange? Why, an orange,
Just an orange!
Christina Georgina Rossetti
Two Little Kittens
Two little kittens, one stormy night,
Began to quarrel, and then to fight;
One had a mouse, the other had none,
And that's the way the quarrel begun.
"I'll have that mouse," said the biggest cat;
"You'll have that mouse? We'll see about that!"
"I will have that mouse," said the eldest son;
"You shan't have the mouse," said the little one.
I told you before 'twas a stormy night
When those two little kittens began to fight;
The old woman seized her sweeping broom,
And swept the two kittens right out of the room.
The ground was covered in frost and snow,
And the two little kittens had nowhere to go;
So they laid them down on the mat at the door,
While the old woman finished sweeping the floor.
Then they crept in, as quiet as mice,
All wet with the snow, and as cold as ice,
For they found it was better, that stormy night,
To lie down and sleep than to quarrel and fight.
Anon
Time to Rise
A birdie with a yellow bill
Hopped upon the window-sill,
Cocked his shining eye and said:
'Ain't you 'shamed, you sleepy-head?
Robert Louis Stevenson
The Long-Awaited Answers!!!!
1. 12 Letters of the Alphabet
2. 7 Days of the Week
3. 7 Wonders of the World
4. 12 Signs of the Zodiac
5. 66 Books of the Bible
6. 52 Cards in a Pack (Without Jokers)
7. 13 Stripes in the United States Flag
8. 18 Holes on a Golf Course
9. 39 Books of the Old Testament
10. 5 Toes on a Foot
11. 90 Degrees in a Right Angle
12. 3 Blind Mice (See How They Run)
13. 32 is the Temperature in Degrees Fahrenheit at which Water Freezes
14 15 Players in a Rugby Team
15. 3 Wheels on a Tricycle
16. 100 Cents in a Dollar
17. 11 Players in a Football (Soccer) Team
18. 12 Months in a Year
19. 13 is Unlucky For Some
20. 8 Tentacles on an Octopus
21. 29 Days in February in a Leap Year
22. 27 Books in the New Testament
23. 365 Days in a Year
24. 13 Loaves in a Bakers Dozen
25. 52 Weeks in a Year
26. 9 Lives of a Cat
27. 60 Minutes in an Hour
28. 23 Pairs of Chromosomes in the Human Body
29. 64 Squares on a Chess Board
30. 15 Men on a Dead Man's Chest
2. 7 Days of the Week
3. 7 Wonders of the World
4. 12 Signs of the Zodiac
5. 66 Books of the Bible
6. 52 Cards in a Pack (Without Jokers)
7. 13 Stripes in the United States Flag
8. 18 Holes on a Golf Course
9. 39 Books of the Old Testament
10. 5 Toes on a Foot
11. 90 Degrees in a Right Angle
12. 3 Blind Mice (See How They Run)
13. 32 is the Temperature in Degrees Fahrenheit at which Water Freezes
14 15 Players in a Rugby Team
15. 3 Wheels on a Tricycle
16. 100 Cents in a Dollar
17. 11 Players in a Football (Soccer) Team
18. 12 Months in a Year
19. 13 is Unlucky For Some
20. 8 Tentacles on an Octopus
21. 29 Days in February in a Leap Year
22. 27 Books in the New Testament
23. 365 Days in a Year
24. 13 Loaves in a Bakers Dozen
25. 52 Weeks in a Year
26. 9 Lives of a Cat
27. 60 Minutes in an Hour
28. 23 Pairs of Chromosomes in the Human Body
29. 64 Squares on a Chess Board
30. 15 Men on a Dead Man's Chest
Monday 30 August 2010
Bit of a Quiz!
1. 26 L of the A
2. 7 D of the W
3. 7 W of the W
4. 12 S of the Z
5. 66 B of the B
6. 52 C in a P (W J)
7. 13 S in the U S F
8. 18 H on a G C
9. 39 B of the O T
10. 5 T on a F
11. 90 D in a R A
12. 3 B M (S H T R)
13. 32 is the T in D F at which W F
14. 15 P in a R T
15. 3 W on a T
16. 100 C in a D
17. 11 P in a F (S) T
18. 12 M in a Y
19. 13 is U F S
20. 8 T on an O
21. 29 D in F in a L Y
22. 27 B in the N T
23. 365 D in a Y
24. 13 L in a B D
25. 52 W in a Y
26. 9 L of a C
27. 60 M in an H
28. 23 P of C in the H B
29. 64 S on a C B
30. 15 M on a D M C
Answers to be given in a week or two.
Dawn x
2. 7 D of the W
3. 7 W of the W
4. 12 S of the Z
5. 66 B of the B
6. 52 C in a P (W J)
7. 13 S in the U S F
8. 18 H on a G C
9. 39 B of the O T
10. 5 T on a F
11. 90 D in a R A
12. 3 B M (S H T R)
13. 32 is the T in D F at which W F
14. 15 P in a R T
15. 3 W on a T
16. 100 C in a D
17. 11 P in a F (S) T
18. 12 M in a Y
19. 13 is U F S
20. 8 T on an O
21. 29 D in F in a L Y
22. 27 B in the N T
23. 365 D in a Y
24. 13 L in a B D
25. 52 W in a Y
26. 9 L of a C
27. 60 M in an H
28. 23 P of C in the H B
29. 64 S on a C B
30. 15 M on a D M C
Answers to be given in a week or two.
Dawn x
Let's Play "Word and Question"!
Word: Smell
Question: What's the weather like?
It's the middle of Winter and frost is all around,
And any time now we could see snow on the ground.
The smell of snow pervades the air, I fear,
And I'll be jolly glad when Spring is finally here!
Word: Cat
Question: How are you?
I wish I could say I was fit and well
'Cos I'm sure you would sooner hear that.
But the cold in my nose and the lack of sunshine
Is making me feel rather flat,
And, considering the wonderful life that they lead
I wish that I'd been born a cat!!!
Word: Shoes
Question: Are you an early riser?
I could jump out of bed at 6.00 am and be bright and breezy all day.
I'd be pleasant and courteous and cheerfully deal with obstacles placed in my way.
But if I sleep in till 8.00 or 9.00, I awake with the grumps and the blues
And, if you should cross me at all after that - well, I wouldn't be in your shoes!!!
Word: Curtains
Question: Do you enjoy music?
Oh, how I love my music!
It sets my spirit free!
If there were no more music
It would be "curtains" for me!
Word: Peanuts
Question: Are you happy in your work?
I love the job I'm doing,
But friends say I must be nuts
To be so happy in my job
Although I work for peanuts!
Word: Ball
Question: Are you a chocoholic?
Chocolate is the one thing that I can't resist at all.
I binge out on the scrummy stuff and really have a ball.
And even when I'm full right up, and feeling pretty queasy
To stop myself from gorging chocolate isn't very easy!
And on that note, dear friends, I bid you a fond "Adieu!"
Dawn xxx
Question: What's the weather like?
It's the middle of Winter and frost is all around,
And any time now we could see snow on the ground.
The smell of snow pervades the air, I fear,
And I'll be jolly glad when Spring is finally here!
Word: Cat
Question: How are you?
I wish I could say I was fit and well
'Cos I'm sure you would sooner hear that.
But the cold in my nose and the lack of sunshine
Is making me feel rather flat,
And, considering the wonderful life that they lead
I wish that I'd been born a cat!!!
Word: Shoes
Question: Are you an early riser?
I could jump out of bed at 6.00 am and be bright and breezy all day.
I'd be pleasant and courteous and cheerfully deal with obstacles placed in my way.
But if I sleep in till 8.00 or 9.00, I awake with the grumps and the blues
And, if you should cross me at all after that - well, I wouldn't be in your shoes!!!
Word: Curtains
Question: Do you enjoy music?
Oh, how I love my music!
It sets my spirit free!
If there were no more music
It would be "curtains" for me!
Word: Peanuts
Question: Are you happy in your work?
I love the job I'm doing,
But friends say I must be nuts
To be so happy in my job
Although I work for peanuts!
Word: Ball
Question: Are you a chocoholic?
Chocolate is the one thing that I can't resist at all.
I binge out on the scrummy stuff and really have a ball.
And even when I'm full right up, and feeling pretty queasy
To stop myself from gorging chocolate isn't very easy!
And on that note, dear friends, I bid you a fond "Adieu!"
Dawn xxx
In Memory of My Dad!
Flight of Fancy
Our sofa was a spaceship.
We soared between the stars
Visiting distant planets
Like Jupiter and Mars.
My brother and I were astronauts
Dad was Chief Engineer
He'd power up the engines
Then through the heavens we'd steer.
We followed a passing comet,
Met some little green men,
Went to the edge of the universe
And all the way back again.
We travelled across the galaxy
Passed the Milky Way.
Even took tea with the Man in the Moon
And all in just one day!
Our sofa was a spaceship
That special afternoon
Oh! What a great adventure!
And over all too soon!
NB I wrote this as a tribute to my father, who died when I was 9 years old. He was great at inventing ways to entertain us - and sometimes, our friends as well! He had even been known to prepare games a day or two in advance - like the hunt for fairy treasure he once sent us on, as my next rhyme demonstrates.
Golden Memory: A (True?) Story
Daddy has a secret! He was woken by a light!
Something or someone was moving through the garden late one night.
He crept up to the window and, much to his surprise,
He saw a band of tiny folk - about a foot in size.
He knew he must be dreaming, so he blinked and shook his head,
But this action served to sharpen visibilty instead!
He held his breath as he watched in awe (and just a hint of pleasure)
For surely what he witnessed was the burying of fairy treasure!
When their task was finished, the imps stood in a ring.
They started dancing round and round. The speed was dizzying.
Then, just before the sun came up, to herald a brand new day,
The giddy motion slowed to a halt, and they simply flew away.
Later, he told his children where that fortune was interred,
And off we went on a treasure hunt, without another word.
There wasn't much as I now look back: a couple of pennies, a shilling,
a tanner and some threepeny bits. We found it all so thrilling!
As an adult I know how that money got there, but this memory still makes me glad.
Now I'm keeping the glamour alive in my heart -
The magic that started with Dad!!!!
Rest in Peace, Dad! I'll never forget you!
Dawn xxxx
Our sofa was a spaceship.
We soared between the stars
Visiting distant planets
Like Jupiter and Mars.
My brother and I were astronauts
Dad was Chief Engineer
He'd power up the engines
Then through the heavens we'd steer.
We followed a passing comet,
Met some little green men,
Went to the edge of the universe
And all the way back again.
We travelled across the galaxy
Passed the Milky Way.
Even took tea with the Man in the Moon
And all in just one day!
Our sofa was a spaceship
That special afternoon
Oh! What a great adventure!
And over all too soon!
NB I wrote this as a tribute to my father, who died when I was 9 years old. He was great at inventing ways to entertain us - and sometimes, our friends as well! He had even been known to prepare games a day or two in advance - like the hunt for fairy treasure he once sent us on, as my next rhyme demonstrates.
Golden Memory: A (True?) Story
Daddy has a secret! He was woken by a light!
Something or someone was moving through the garden late one night.
He crept up to the window and, much to his surprise,
He saw a band of tiny folk - about a foot in size.
He knew he must be dreaming, so he blinked and shook his head,
But this action served to sharpen visibilty instead!
He held his breath as he watched in awe (and just a hint of pleasure)
For surely what he witnessed was the burying of fairy treasure!
When their task was finished, the imps stood in a ring.
They started dancing round and round. The speed was dizzying.
Then, just before the sun came up, to herald a brand new day,
The giddy motion slowed to a halt, and they simply flew away.
Later, he told his children where that fortune was interred,
And off we went on a treasure hunt, without another word.
There wasn't much as I now look back: a couple of pennies, a shilling,
a tanner and some threepeny bits. We found it all so thrilling!
As an adult I know how that money got there, but this memory still makes me glad.
Now I'm keeping the glamour alive in my heart -
The magic that started with Dad!!!!
Rest in Peace, Dad! I'll never forget you!
Dawn xxxx
What's your favourite......?
I don't know how any of you feel about this, but I HATE being asked about my favourite film, actor/actress, music, book - well, ANYTHING. The reason is, I don't have just one - I tend to have a long list of them. A really long list! I watch TV programmes like 100 Greatest Musicals, for example, and I find myself thinking, ok, but what about this film or that film. It's not that I disagree with the 100 best, but I probably would have made the list a lot longer. Maybe two or three times longer!!! And I still wouldn't be able to put them in any order of preference! I mean, how do you choose from so many?!?!
I'm pretty much the same about almost everything - except perhaps food. I do have several meals that I like more than others - cottage pie, spaghetti bolognaise, practically anything with either cheese or chicken - and as for desserts, well, pretty much anything with fruit - apple pie (homemade, of course), fruit crumble (rhubarb is best), fresh fruit salad or strawberries and cream.
When it comes to ice-cream though, I've only just discovered that I do have one particular favourite. While I love most flavours, especially mint-choc chip, rum and raisin, strawberry, neapolitan and raspberry ripple, I know for a fact that I can also get tired of these flavours very quickly. I suppose it's true - you really can have too much of a good thing!
The only flavour that I never seem to get tired of is plain old vanilla! I buy tubs and tubs of it and they don't last me long, I can tell you! After all, it's so versatile. You can have it with pretty much anything - well, anything sweet that is. You wouldn't want it sitting next to your roast potatoes on Sunday - it makes the gravy taste funny!!!! (Joke!)
Seriously though, I love it with any of the aforementioned desserts, and I also love it in drinks! I don't mean milkshakes ( I can't stand milk!). I'm talking about fizzy drinks like cola, lemonade, or even ice-cream soda. If you've never had an ice-cream float, you haven't lived!
Just take a tall glass and pour a little of the fizzy drink of your choice. Then add one or two scoops of ice-cream and very slowly pour more of the fizzy pop. You'll quickly see why I said to pour it slowly as it froths right up and can overflow if you aren't careful.
Next take a straw, and sip from the bottom. You also need a spoon for both the ice-cream and the froth. Mmmm! Yum! I suppose you could try using other flavours, but vanilla definitely gets my vote!!!
Speaking of which, I'm off to raid the freezer!
Bye for now!
Dawnie xxxx
I'm pretty much the same about almost everything - except perhaps food. I do have several meals that I like more than others - cottage pie, spaghetti bolognaise, practically anything with either cheese or chicken - and as for desserts, well, pretty much anything with fruit - apple pie (homemade, of course), fruit crumble (rhubarb is best), fresh fruit salad or strawberries and cream.
When it comes to ice-cream though, I've only just discovered that I do have one particular favourite. While I love most flavours, especially mint-choc chip, rum and raisin, strawberry, neapolitan and raspberry ripple, I know for a fact that I can also get tired of these flavours very quickly. I suppose it's true - you really can have too much of a good thing!
The only flavour that I never seem to get tired of is plain old vanilla! I buy tubs and tubs of it and they don't last me long, I can tell you! After all, it's so versatile. You can have it with pretty much anything - well, anything sweet that is. You wouldn't want it sitting next to your roast potatoes on Sunday - it makes the gravy taste funny!!!! (Joke!)
Seriously though, I love it with any of the aforementioned desserts, and I also love it in drinks! I don't mean milkshakes ( I can't stand milk!). I'm talking about fizzy drinks like cola, lemonade, or even ice-cream soda. If you've never had an ice-cream float, you haven't lived!
Just take a tall glass and pour a little of the fizzy drink of your choice. Then add one or two scoops of ice-cream and very slowly pour more of the fizzy pop. You'll quickly see why I said to pour it slowly as it froths right up and can overflow if you aren't careful.
Next take a straw, and sip from the bottom. You also need a spoon for both the ice-cream and the froth. Mmmm! Yum! I suppose you could try using other flavours, but vanilla definitely gets my vote!!!
Speaking of which, I'm off to raid the freezer!
Bye for now!
Dawnie xxxx
Tuesday 10 August 2010
Age is Just a State of Mind!
It’s no fun growing old, you know.
Your joints seize up and creak.
You can remember what happened in years gone by,
But not what you did last week!
You once had luscious brunette locks.
They’re thinner now, and grey.
Climbing the stairs was a doddle back then.
Now, it takes you all day!
The figure you were so proud of
Is rotund now, and sags.
Your face is all lined and wrinkled,
And your blood-shot eyes have bags.
Your tummy is now a pot-belly.
Your legs have varicose veins,
And the arthritis in your elbows and knees
Plays up whenever it rains.
But your soul is as youthful as ever,
Your spirit still as sprightly.
So you count all your blessings daily...
And take your tablets nightly!!!!
Your joints seize up and creak.
You can remember what happened in years gone by,
But not what you did last week!
You once had luscious brunette locks.
They’re thinner now, and grey.
Climbing the stairs was a doddle back then.
Now, it takes you all day!
The figure you were so proud of
Is rotund now, and sags.
Your face is all lined and wrinkled,
And your blood-shot eyes have bags.
Your tummy is now a pot-belly.
Your legs have varicose veins,
And the arthritis in your elbows and knees
Plays up whenever it rains.
But your soul is as youthful as ever,
Your spirit still as sprightly.
So you count all your blessings daily...
And take your tablets nightly!!!!
Monday 9 August 2010
Traveller
I tossed a thought into the air
And sent it on it's way.
It travelled here, and travelled there,
Getting bigger every day.
It wondered on and on across
This wondrous world of ours.
Sometimes it stayed for several days
And sometimes merely hours.
It journeyed North and journeyed West
It journeyed South and East.
By this time it had grown so large
It was really quite a beast!
It went on it's way, and while it went
It picked up a billion others:
The replies of the people on it's route,
It's counterparts - it's brothers!
This thought became a sentient thing.
Humanity's dreams unfurled.
And in it's wake, it seemed to leave
A calmer, gentler world.
It travels still, and will not stop
Until all nations find,
This single thought is ringing out
In every heart and mind.
What was it then, this random thought
I once chanced to release?
Not much at all, in the scheme of things.
Just a single syllable......Peace!
And sent it on it's way.
It travelled here, and travelled there,
Getting bigger every day.
It wondered on and on across
This wondrous world of ours.
Sometimes it stayed for several days
And sometimes merely hours.
It journeyed North and journeyed West
It journeyed South and East.
By this time it had grown so large
It was really quite a beast!
It went on it's way, and while it went
It picked up a billion others:
The replies of the people on it's route,
It's counterparts - it's brothers!
This thought became a sentient thing.
Humanity's dreams unfurled.
And in it's wake, it seemed to leave
A calmer, gentler world.
It travels still, and will not stop
Until all nations find,
This single thought is ringing out
In every heart and mind.
What was it then, this random thought
I once chanced to release?
Not much at all, in the scheme of things.
Just a single syllable......Peace!
Present Intense
When everything seems to go horribly wrong,
And the walls of doubt start to close in.
The days are too short, and the nights overlong –
It can really make your head spin.
‘Cos there’s too much month at the end of your money.
You’re unable to make both ends meet.
The bills come at once, and it's truly unfunny
When to pay “Paul” you’re forced to rob “Pete”.
The distant light viewed through a long dark tunnel
Is, in fact, an oncoming train.
And your brolly transforms itself into a funnel
The moment it pours down with rain.
Then, just when you think it can’t get any worse,
And believe that good luck will prevail,
You find out you’re under some terrible curse
As your roof blows away in a gale!
You hear people talk of those clouds, silver-lined,
That float in the sky overhead.
Yet you can’t help the feeling that they must be blind –
That’s not silver they’re lined with – it’s lead!!!
My advice in these times of extreme tribulation
When “The Twilight Zone” mirrors real life,
Is to see the absurd side of each situation
And to scoff at the source of your strife.
This won’t make your problems just disappear
But will lessen their grip on your heart.
It’s the best way I know to dissolve the fear.
You’ll have strength then to make a new start.
And the walls of doubt start to close in.
The days are too short, and the nights overlong –
It can really make your head spin.
‘Cos there’s too much month at the end of your money.
You’re unable to make both ends meet.
The bills come at once, and it's truly unfunny
When to pay “Paul” you’re forced to rob “Pete”.
The distant light viewed through a long dark tunnel
Is, in fact, an oncoming train.
And your brolly transforms itself into a funnel
The moment it pours down with rain.
Then, just when you think it can’t get any worse,
And believe that good luck will prevail,
You find out you’re under some terrible curse
As your roof blows away in a gale!
You hear people talk of those clouds, silver-lined,
That float in the sky overhead.
Yet you can’t help the feeling that they must be blind –
That’s not silver they’re lined with – it’s lead!!!
My advice in these times of extreme tribulation
When “The Twilight Zone” mirrors real life,
Is to see the absurd side of each situation
And to scoff at the source of your strife.
This won’t make your problems just disappear
But will lessen their grip on your heart.
It’s the best way I know to dissolve the fear.
You’ll have strength then to make a new start.
Friday 6 August 2010
Bold Protector
Steadfast and proud, he stands alone,
On guard against his foes.
His arms are stiff, his head is light,
He cannot feel his toes.
His clothes are worn and ragged,
But he doesn't seem to fret,
Just keeps a constant vigil,
Looking out for signs of threat.
He never will be conquered
Nor ever will he yield.
For he's a valiant scarecrow -
A man outstanding in his field!
On guard against his foes.
His arms are stiff, his head is light,
He cannot feel his toes.
His clothes are worn and ragged,
But he doesn't seem to fret,
Just keeps a constant vigil,
Looking out for signs of threat.
He never will be conquered
Nor ever will he yield.
For he's a valiant scarecrow -
A man outstanding in his field!
Throw-away Rhyme
You think that you know just who I am,
But how can that possibly be,
When all you can view from the outside
Is the part I allow you to see?
I'm hiding beneath the surface
Wearing a painted smile
Putting on the greatest show
You've seen in a long, long while.
I've spent my whole life acting like
I'm happy and content
While all the time, the tears inside
Are building up, unspent.
Alone with myself, the mask comes off,
The shield I wear disappears
And loneliness and self-loathing replace
The armour I've worn all these years.
It all started when I was very young,
A shy and awkward child
Sitting alone in the playground,
Relentlessly teased and reviled.
So I made myself as small as I could;
Was quieter than a mouse,
While I took it all out on my younger siblings
When my mum was out of the house.
In lessons I'd never raise my hand
Even though the answer I knew
My horror of being noticed at all
Made that the last thing I'd do.
And so, it went on throughout the school years
I became more of a recluse.
Outwardly getting on well with my life
But all the while that was a ruse.
The habits of a lifetime, it's true,
Are the hardest by far to break
In comparison, giving up smoking
Is childs play - a piece of cake!
But I'm working so hard to try to be
More open, then maybe some day,
I'll wonder why I wrote these lines;
Tear them up and throw them away.
But how can that possibly be,
When all you can view from the outside
Is the part I allow you to see?
I'm hiding beneath the surface
Wearing a painted smile
Putting on the greatest show
You've seen in a long, long while.
I've spent my whole life acting like
I'm happy and content
While all the time, the tears inside
Are building up, unspent.
Alone with myself, the mask comes off,
The shield I wear disappears
And loneliness and self-loathing replace
The armour I've worn all these years.
It all started when I was very young,
A shy and awkward child
Sitting alone in the playground,
Relentlessly teased and reviled.
So I made myself as small as I could;
Was quieter than a mouse,
While I took it all out on my younger siblings
When my mum was out of the house.
In lessons I'd never raise my hand
Even though the answer I knew
My horror of being noticed at all
Made that the last thing I'd do.
And so, it went on throughout the school years
I became more of a recluse.
Outwardly getting on well with my life
But all the while that was a ruse.
The habits of a lifetime, it's true,
Are the hardest by far to break
In comparison, giving up smoking
Is childs play - a piece of cake!
But I'm working so hard to try to be
More open, then maybe some day,
I'll wonder why I wrote these lines;
Tear them up and throw them away.
Saturday 31 July 2010
A Merry Dance
I never once suspected
On the day we said "I do"
That you might be really saying
"I'll do what I want to do!"
You started coming home late.
Work commitments, so you said.
But the hairs caught in your collar
Didn't come from your wife's head!
And the lipstick that I saw there
Isn't my favourite hue.
The perfume that still lingered,
That's someone else's, too.
So I made a firm decision
To find out where you meet.
I'd follow you to her doorstep.
Catch you being indiscreet.
I waited in the street below,
Saw your shadows on the blind,
Your bodies twined together.
I thought I'd lose my mind!
So I walked up to her front door
And was just about to knock,
When I noticed the little plaque
That was nailed above the lock.
It read "I've got the patience
If you'd care to take a chance.
Come to me for salsa lessons.
Let me teach you how to dance!"
Suddenly it all made sense!
You'd mentioned that, since school,
You'd felt you'd like to learn to dance
But were afraid to feel a fool.
It's me that feels a fool right now,
A fool to doubt your love.
I left the building quietly,
Thanking the lord above,
That you, my love, will never know
How close I'd come making
The biggest mistake of my whole life!
I can't stop my hands from shaking!
I'll go home now and cook up a storm
Prepare your favourite meal.
To show you how much I appreciate
The way you make me feel!
And as the years roll on and on,
I'll be the perfect wife.
I promise to make you happy,
And to trust you my whole life!
On the day we said "I do"
That you might be really saying
"I'll do what I want to do!"
You started coming home late.
Work commitments, so you said.
But the hairs caught in your collar
Didn't come from your wife's head!
And the lipstick that I saw there
Isn't my favourite hue.
The perfume that still lingered,
That's someone else's, too.
So I made a firm decision
To find out where you meet.
I'd follow you to her doorstep.
Catch you being indiscreet.
I waited in the street below,
Saw your shadows on the blind,
Your bodies twined together.
I thought I'd lose my mind!
So I walked up to her front door
And was just about to knock,
When I noticed the little plaque
That was nailed above the lock.
It read "I've got the patience
If you'd care to take a chance.
Come to me for salsa lessons.
Let me teach you how to dance!"
Suddenly it all made sense!
You'd mentioned that, since school,
You'd felt you'd like to learn to dance
But were afraid to feel a fool.
It's me that feels a fool right now,
A fool to doubt your love.
I left the building quietly,
Thanking the lord above,
That you, my love, will never know
How close I'd come making
The biggest mistake of my whole life!
I can't stop my hands from shaking!
I'll go home now and cook up a storm
Prepare your favourite meal.
To show you how much I appreciate
The way you make me feel!
And as the years roll on and on,
I'll be the perfect wife.
I promise to make you happy,
And to trust you my whole life!
I am.....Therefore, I Feel!!!
I am a child, lost in a strange and frightening world
A refugee in a time of trouble
I gaze upon the faces in a hostile crowd
An orphan, whose home is a pile of rubble.
See me!
I am the victim of habitual abuse, crying for help
Though there's noone to hear.
I cry myself to sleep each night
But can find no help or solace here.
Hear me!
I am the invisible person, unnoticed, unloved
Never showing the pain inside
To not have someone to come home to
You'll never know the tears I've cried.
Free me!
I am a broken spirit, beaten by an unforgiving life
Living in squalor, foraging for food
Begging on the streets for coins
Dependant on strangers in a giving mood.
Help me!
A refugee in a time of trouble
I gaze upon the faces in a hostile crowd
An orphan, whose home is a pile of rubble.
See me!
I am the victim of habitual abuse, crying for help
Though there's noone to hear.
I cry myself to sleep each night
But can find no help or solace here.
Hear me!
I am the invisible person, unnoticed, unloved
Never showing the pain inside
To not have someone to come home to
You'll never know the tears I've cried.
Free me!
I am a broken spirit, beaten by an unforgiving life
Living in squalor, foraging for food
Begging on the streets for coins
Dependant on strangers in a giving mood.
Help me!
Wednesday 28 July 2010
Cheers Mate!
I will never understand, nor condone, the use of the word "cheers" instead of "thank you"! Where did this stem from? Who started it? And is there no way to stop it????
This fair land of ours was once home to King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. It's the birthplace of Chivalry, for God's sake! How have we fallen so low?!?!
While I have to admit that, being a Portsmouthian, I am, on occasion, prone to using "Pompey slang" such as, greeting others with "A'right!" when what I actually mean is "Hello, how are you?", but, when I want to show my appreciation to someone for some service rendered, I make a point of saying "Thank you!". Call me old-fashioned, but to me "cheers, mate" seems mightily insufficient - almost an insult!
Of course, my aversion to the term stems from something (or someone) from my past. I had a friend, for want of a better word, who would ask me to babysit for her, knowing I had no life of my own, and also knowing that, not only would I agree, but that I wouldn't charge for my services! All I had in payment was - you guessed it - "Cheers, mate!". Oh, she had my number alright - it might just as well have been 118 118 - you'll find me under M for "mug!
Anyway, this went on for quite a long time. She'd go out enjoying herself, leaving me in charge of, not only my own child, but her brood as well - and, sometimes, the child of one of her other friends!!!! When she came home, she'd crow about how much she'd spent at the bar, and how much her husband had lost or won on the machines - and there was never a mention of payment for the mere fact of enabling them to have such a good time!
Things came to a head one day, however, when I was coming home from work. As I was walking up our street, I saw her a little way ahead of me. She was telling her oldest child something and then she went indoors, leaving her little girl standing, waiting, by the kerb opposite my house. As I reached my gate, she then shouted at me "You've got to look after me and my brother, cos mummy's got to take the baby to the doctor's!"
Reader, I saw red!!! But you'll be glad to know that no blood was spilled - no murder committed! I just calmly walked across to my friend and told her that it wasn't convenient, that I had other things to do! I bit back an apology - she didn't deserve one! Oh, how I enjoyed the shocked look on her face! The worm had finally turned! Hoo-bloody-ray!
Our friendship wasn't the same after that! Such a pity - for her, anyway!
I've learned my lesson! From now on I have a new motto - Champagne for my real friends, real pain for my sham friends!
Well, I'll sign off now. I'm sure I've bored you all enough for one day.
Till next time -Cheers, me dears! - er, I mean, thank you for joining me on my somewhat verbose ramblings!!!!
Dawn 8-D xxxxx
This fair land of ours was once home to King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. It's the birthplace of Chivalry, for God's sake! How have we fallen so low?!?!
While I have to admit that, being a Portsmouthian, I am, on occasion, prone to using "Pompey slang" such as, greeting others with "A'right!" when what I actually mean is "Hello, how are you?", but, when I want to show my appreciation to someone for some service rendered, I make a point of saying "Thank you!". Call me old-fashioned, but to me "cheers, mate" seems mightily insufficient - almost an insult!
Of course, my aversion to the term stems from something (or someone) from my past. I had a friend, for want of a better word, who would ask me to babysit for her, knowing I had no life of my own, and also knowing that, not only would I agree, but that I wouldn't charge for my services! All I had in payment was - you guessed it - "Cheers, mate!". Oh, she had my number alright - it might just as well have been 118 118 - you'll find me under M for "mug!
Anyway, this went on for quite a long time. She'd go out enjoying herself, leaving me in charge of, not only my own child, but her brood as well - and, sometimes, the child of one of her other friends!!!! When she came home, she'd crow about how much she'd spent at the bar, and how much her husband had lost or won on the machines - and there was never a mention of payment for the mere fact of enabling them to have such a good time!
Things came to a head one day, however, when I was coming home from work. As I was walking up our street, I saw her a little way ahead of me. She was telling her oldest child something and then she went indoors, leaving her little girl standing, waiting, by the kerb opposite my house. As I reached my gate, she then shouted at me "You've got to look after me and my brother, cos mummy's got to take the baby to the doctor's!"
Reader, I saw red!!! But you'll be glad to know that no blood was spilled - no murder committed! I just calmly walked across to my friend and told her that it wasn't convenient, that I had other things to do! I bit back an apology - she didn't deserve one! Oh, how I enjoyed the shocked look on her face! The worm had finally turned! Hoo-bloody-ray!
Our friendship wasn't the same after that! Such a pity - for her, anyway!
I've learned my lesson! From now on I have a new motto - Champagne for my real friends, real pain for my sham friends!
Well, I'll sign off now. I'm sure I've bored you all enough for one day.
Till next time -
Dawn 8-D xxxxx
Thursday 15 July 2010
Birthdays - and Other Pleasurable Things
More about birthdays! Here are a couple of rhymes on the subject, written, as usual, by yours truly:
About Birthday Cards
Some birthday cards are humurous
With jokes that make you smile,
Others are cute, with kittens on,
Or cherubs that beguile.
Some have flowery greetings,
Some, sentimental verse.
Some poke fun at someone's age,
While others - well, they're worse!
But my favourite kind of card is one
That comes straight from the heart.
No wit or soppy message. Just -
Happy birthday, you old fart!!!!
Or how about this one - somewhat less acerbic!
A Birthday Greeting
Some cards are huge and colourful,
With greetings bright and cheerful.
Others are sweet or touching
And can make you feel quite tearful.
There are funny cards with jokes in,
Enough to make you titter.
Home-made cards, pricey cards
And ones all covered in glitter.
Some can be rather age-ist,
Making fun out of getting old.
While others contain messages
That are worth much more than gold.
Some cards are sentimental,
The rhymes inside quite corny,
But not this one - it simply reads:
Happy Birthday, love from Dawnie
Better???? Tough choice, isn't it? He he he!
Now to get off the subject of birthdays - praise be!!!
Here is my latest versification. hope you like it.
Bottled Joy
The sounds of children laughing,
The fresh smell after rain,
The new buds in the Springtime,
The clatter of a train,
The buzzing of the bees
As they pollinate the flowers,
The ticking of the clock
As it counts away the hours,
The taste of Summer berries,
The smell of fresh-baked bread,
The memories of days gone by,
The pillows on my bed.
So many joys I'd bottle up
And keep them close to hand
To open when I'm feeling blue -
Oh! Wouldn't that be grand?
Cheerio, friends, till next time. Dawn xxx
About Birthday Cards
Some birthday cards are humurous
With jokes that make you smile,
Others are cute, with kittens on,
Or cherubs that beguile.
Some have flowery greetings,
Some, sentimental verse.
Some poke fun at someone's age,
While others - well, they're worse!
But my favourite kind of card is one
That comes straight from the heart.
No wit or soppy message. Just -
Happy birthday, you old fart!!!!
Or how about this one - somewhat less acerbic!
A Birthday Greeting
Some cards are huge and colourful,
With greetings bright and cheerful.
Others are sweet or touching
And can make you feel quite tearful.
There are funny cards with jokes in,
Enough to make you titter.
Home-made cards, pricey cards
And ones all covered in glitter.
Some can be rather age-ist,
Making fun out of getting old.
While others contain messages
That are worth much more than gold.
Some cards are sentimental,
The rhymes inside quite corny,
But not this one - it simply reads:
Happy Birthday, love from Dawnie
Better???? Tough choice, isn't it? He he he!
Now to get off the subject of birthdays - praise be!!!
Here is my latest versification. hope you like it.
Bottled Joy
The sounds of children laughing,
The fresh smell after rain,
The new buds in the Springtime,
The clatter of a train,
The buzzing of the bees
As they pollinate the flowers,
The ticking of the clock
As it counts away the hours,
The taste of Summer berries,
The smell of fresh-baked bread,
The memories of days gone by,
The pillows on my bed.
So many joys I'd bottle up
And keep them close to hand
To open when I'm feeling blue -
Oh! Wouldn't that be grand?
Cheerio, friends, till next time. Dawn xxx
Saturday 10 July 2010
Birthdays
Another bloomin' birthday rolls around! Here's a little rhyme for all of you out there who, like me, are a whole lot younger in heart and spirit than you are in years.
I've seen a few birthdays come and go
And I hope to endure a few more,
But at my age, I can't help but question it all.
Just what is a birthday for?
When I was a child I looked forward to them.
It was exciting to guess what I'd get.
But now that I'm old, I don't feel that same thrill.
It's just something I'd sooner forget.
Another year older means nearer the grave!
And I know I'm not ready to go.
So why keep on counting the years as they pass?
That's what I'm wanting to know.
So I'll stop having birthdays at all from now on.
After all I don't feel my real age,
And knowing time's passed is no comfort at all.
I'm just nearer the old-timer stage!
You're only as old as you feel, so they say,
And I don't feel old at all.
Birthdays prove nothing - I'm still in my prime!
Stop counting! I'm having a ball! ! !
I've seen a few birthdays come and go
And I hope to endure a few more,
But at my age, I can't help but question it all.
Just what is a birthday for?
When I was a child I looked forward to them.
It was exciting to guess what I'd get.
But now that I'm old, I don't feel that same thrill.
It's just something I'd sooner forget.
Another year older means nearer the grave!
And I know I'm not ready to go.
So why keep on counting the years as they pass?
That's what I'm wanting to know.
So I'll stop having birthdays at all from now on.
After all I don't feel my real age,
And knowing time's passed is no comfort at all.
I'm just nearer the old-timer stage!
You're only as old as you feel, so they say,
And I don't feel old at all.
Birthdays prove nothing - I'm still in my prime!
Stop counting! I'm having a ball! ! !
Thursday 24 June 2010
Rhyme and Reason
First of all I'd like to say, straight off, that I'm no great wit. Nor am I more than moderately intelligent. Just because I can throw a few words and phrases together and make them rhyme does not make me a poet. In fact I prefer the term "rhymester". Honestly, anyone with half a brain can do it. All it really takes is an average vocabulary and a keen sense of rhythm.
When I was - well, let's say a FEW years younger, my friend and I used to play a game together that we called "Word and Question". What we did was to take little slips of paper, and on half of them we'd write single words - any that popped into our heads - and then fold them and place them in either a pile, or some sort of container. Then, on the other half we'd write a question - again, anything that occurred to us - and place these in another pile or container. Next, we'd shuffle them really well and each of us would take a slip of paper from each and write them both at the top of a sheet of paper. The object was to write a few lines of either verse or prose in which we would answer the question (or try to) but we had to make sure that we used the word in our answer. Of course I always responded in rhyme.
I think this is when I realised how much easier it is to write in verse - for me at least. Perversely, I think it's because of the restrictions of rhyme and tempo. If you have something to say, it's often easier to know that you have to stay within the boundaries or rules of verse-making, rather like a child learning to colour pictures has to stay within the lines. I find a kind of comfort in it. You have more control - it doesn't run away from you.
Anyway, I digress! Word and Question! In most cases, the word had absolutely nothing in common with the question, or it's reply, so this was where you had to be a little creative. Still, to show you how easy it is, I'll tell you about one that my younger sister, who was then about seven or eight, did.
The word she picked was "Arms", the question "Did Nelson wear glasses?". Here is her reply -
It's been asked if Horatio Nelson wore goggles.
If that is the case - My! How the mind boggles!
Whether he did or he didn't, I know not or care,
Still - no 'arms been done in the asking, has there?
You can see how proud I was of her! I remember it verbatim! Clever little thing wasn't she? Still is, actually. She can run rings round me in the brains department.
So, that was how I realised I could really do this! I can write verse! And so can any of you out there. Try it! I'm sure inside a few of you there's a Shelley or Keats - or even a Pam Ayres!
Good versifying! 8-)
When I was - well, let's say a FEW years younger, my friend and I used to play a game together that we called "Word and Question". What we did was to take little slips of paper, and on half of them we'd write single words - any that popped into our heads - and then fold them and place them in either a pile, or some sort of container. Then, on the other half we'd write a question - again, anything that occurred to us - and place these in another pile or container. Next, we'd shuffle them really well and each of us would take a slip of paper from each and write them both at the top of a sheet of paper. The object was to write a few lines of either verse or prose in which we would answer the question (or try to) but we had to make sure that we used the word in our answer. Of course I always responded in rhyme.
I think this is when I realised how much easier it is to write in verse - for me at least. Perversely, I think it's because of the restrictions of rhyme and tempo. If you have something to say, it's often easier to know that you have to stay within the boundaries or rules of verse-making, rather like a child learning to colour pictures has to stay within the lines. I find a kind of comfort in it. You have more control - it doesn't run away from you.
Anyway, I digress! Word and Question! In most cases, the word had absolutely nothing in common with the question, or it's reply, so this was where you had to be a little creative. Still, to show you how easy it is, I'll tell you about one that my younger sister, who was then about seven or eight, did.
The word she picked was "Arms", the question "Did Nelson wear glasses?". Here is her reply -
It's been asked if Horatio Nelson wore goggles.
If that is the case - My! How the mind boggles!
Whether he did or he didn't, I know not or care,
Still - no 'arms been done in the asking, has there?
You can see how proud I was of her! I remember it verbatim! Clever little thing wasn't she? Still is, actually. She can run rings round me in the brains department.
So, that was how I realised I could really do this! I can write verse! And so can any of you out there. Try it! I'm sure inside a few of you there's a Shelley or Keats - or even a Pam Ayres!
Good versifying! 8-)
Night Stalker
Silently, stealthily he winds his way,
Utilising the dark recesses,
Creeping up on unsuspecting prey
Made helpless in his deadly caresses.
Through the darkness, feel his power!
Lesser creatures should beware,
For if by chance you see him glower,
You will wish yourself elsewhere.
Bewhiskered hunter, King of Night,
His gleaming fangs will give you pause.
All the mice on the block turn white with fright
When the Devil-Cat flexes his claws.
Utilising the dark recesses,
Creeping up on unsuspecting prey
Made helpless in his deadly caresses.
Through the darkness, feel his power!
Lesser creatures should beware,
For if by chance you see him glower,
You will wish yourself elsewhere.
Bewhiskered hunter, King of Night,
His gleaming fangs will give you pause.
All the mice on the block turn white with fright
When the Devil-Cat flexes his claws.
Saturday 19 June 2010
Flower Power
It really isn't funny
When the day is warm and sunny
But your nose is red and runny
Though you haven't got the flu.
And isn't it a pity
When the garden looks so pretty
That you eyes are dry and gritty
So you can't enjoy the view.
Throughout the Summer season
While you're coughin', pantin', wheezin',
Snufflin', splutterin' and sneezin'
Others frolic in the sun.
Antihistamines can buffer
The discomfort that you suffer
Still, you find it so much tougher,
In a heatwave, to have fun.
It's amazing that a flower
So petite, can have the power
To reduce, within an hour
Human beings to floods of tears.
So we all should raise a glass
To the humble blade of grass
No, on second thoughts - I'll pass!
Here's to Autumn weather - CHEERS!
This versification is dedicated to all of you out there who, like me, are the tragic victims of Mother Nature.
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