Post up your favourite poem
Discussion
paulguitar said:
Stick Legs said:
Meditation on the A30.
She's loosing her looks very fast,
She looses her temper each day;
that lorry won't let me get past,
this Mini is blocking my way,
Sir John Betjeman.
I'd imagine Betjeman would have known how to spell 'losing' and 'loses'.She's loosing her looks very fast,
She looses her temper each day;
that lorry won't let me get past,
this Mini is blocking my way,
Sir John Betjeman.
So Whose Next
We got the bomb and that was good.
'Cause we love peace and motherhood.
But Russia got the bomb, but that's okay.
The balance of is power's maintained that way.
So who's next ...
France got the bomb, but don't you grieve.
'Cause they're on our side, so I believe.
China got the bomb, but have no fears.
They can't wipe us out for at least five years.
So who's next ...
Then Lebanon claimed that they.
Are gonna make one any day.
Yemen wants two, that's right.
It's only fair that they can fight.
So who's next ...
Iran's gonna get one, too,
Just to use on you know who.
So Israel's getting very tense.
And wants one in self-defence.
So who's next ...
So whose next, we don't know.
It needs to be a right old show.
So let Trump make all the calls.
'Cause he has the biggest balls.
We got the bomb and that was good.
'Cause we love peace and motherhood.
But Russia got the bomb, but that's okay.
The balance of is power's maintained that way.
So who's next ...
France got the bomb, but don't you grieve.
'Cause they're on our side, so I believe.
China got the bomb, but have no fears.
They can't wipe us out for at least five years.
So who's next ...
Then Lebanon claimed that they.
Are gonna make one any day.
Yemen wants two, that's right.
It's only fair that they can fight.
So who's next ...
Iran's gonna get one, too,
Just to use on you know who.
So Israel's getting very tense.
And wants one in self-defence.
So who's next ...
So whose next, we don't know.
It needs to be a right old show.
So let Trump make all the calls.
'Cause he has the biggest balls.
Speed Badger said:
A thousand planets and a million stars, an infinite night can't match those odds. Finding you, again - Stardust, you said, separated and scattered on the winds.
Nobody sees me like you do, nobody sees me truly - only you.
Love doesn't want to leave because we show it the door. Like Greek fire, the smallest droplet of water ignites the fiercest inferno.
I've never found peace like this, a person to love with my soul, it can't be nothing, it can't be all, this life will still keep me breathing you in.
You are my Atlantis, a myth to be discovered, spoken of through centuries, but never real, how could you be? Until one day your island rose from tumultuous seas, shining beauty for miles around.
You called to me, you were no myth, my limits of feeling changed forever.
So many chapters stay unwritten, the story not yet complete. Your pellucid soul is sheet music to my heart, with notes I never knew existed, playing a symphony unheard until we met.
Stardust is what binds us, and to stardust we will return. One day.
One beautiful day.
This was written by me, by the way. Hopefully someone thought it wasn't too bad Nobody sees me like you do, nobody sees me truly - only you.
Love doesn't want to leave because we show it the door. Like Greek fire, the smallest droplet of water ignites the fiercest inferno.
I've never found peace like this, a person to love with my soul, it can't be nothing, it can't be all, this life will still keep me breathing you in.
You are my Atlantis, a myth to be discovered, spoken of through centuries, but never real, how could you be? Until one day your island rose from tumultuous seas, shining beauty for miles around.
You called to me, you were no myth, my limits of feeling changed forever.
So many chapters stay unwritten, the story not yet complete. Your pellucid soul is sheet music to my heart, with notes I never knew existed, playing a symphony unheard until we met.
Stardust is what binds us, and to stardust we will return. One day.
One beautiful day.
There once was a fellow named Walter –
A sensible lad, straight and true.
He was dead keen on driving his mini,
An enthusiast right through and through.
Then one day a dreadful thing happened.
Young Daisy, the girl he did love,
In a flash of misguided affection
Bought Walter a steering wheel glove.
He stared at this present in horror:
How could she have been such a fool?
Not only a glove had she bought him
But the damn thing was made of lambswool.
He’d seen these contraptions in windows
Of accessory shops round about,
But to think that he ever would own one,
Well, it didn’t bear thinking about.
He’d his own very special opinion
Of people who used these effects,
And it wasn’t the least complimentary
It concerned their obtuse intellects.
Poor Daisy could see that the present
Had not brought the joy she had hoped
And though Walter tried hard to say thank you,
The words seemed to stick in his throat.
“It’s no good lass trying to hide it
And I know that you’ll think that I’m queer,
But I couldn’t put this on my mini.
It’s an insult to all I hold dear.
These things are for folk who like clutter
Like those dogs that keep nodding for hours,
Dangling dollies and stickers and pennants,
And them daft little vases of flowers.”
Daisy smiled as she made the suggestion
“Let’s throw it away, here and now.
I can see that you don’t really like it
And it’s not worth us having a row.”
But then Walter remembered his Granny.
He thought of her bathroom so trim
And an object she used that would profit
From a lambswool surround on its brim.
So now Daisy and Walter are married
And Granny thanks heaven above.
On a cold night when nature demands it,
She sits on a steering wheel glove.
(This appeared in the Christmas edition of a motoring magazine. Funny, I can remember every word of the poem, but I can't remember which magazine it was, or what year!!)
A sensible lad, straight and true.
He was dead keen on driving his mini,
An enthusiast right through and through.
Then one day a dreadful thing happened.
Young Daisy, the girl he did love,
In a flash of misguided affection
Bought Walter a steering wheel glove.
He stared at this present in horror:
How could she have been such a fool?
Not only a glove had she bought him
But the damn thing was made of lambswool.
He’d seen these contraptions in windows
Of accessory shops round about,
But to think that he ever would own one,
Well, it didn’t bear thinking about.
He’d his own very special opinion
Of people who used these effects,
And it wasn’t the least complimentary
It concerned their obtuse intellects.
Poor Daisy could see that the present
Had not brought the joy she had hoped
And though Walter tried hard to say thank you,
The words seemed to stick in his throat.
“It’s no good lass trying to hide it
And I know that you’ll think that I’m queer,
But I couldn’t put this on my mini.
It’s an insult to all I hold dear.
These things are for folk who like clutter
Like those dogs that keep nodding for hours,
Dangling dollies and stickers and pennants,
And them daft little vases of flowers.”
Daisy smiled as she made the suggestion
“Let’s throw it away, here and now.
I can see that you don’t really like it
And it’s not worth us having a row.”
But then Walter remembered his Granny.
He thought of her bathroom so trim
And an object she used that would profit
From a lambswool surround on its brim.
So now Daisy and Walter are married
And Granny thanks heaven above.
On a cold night when nature demands it,
She sits on a steering wheel glove.
(This appeared in the Christmas edition of a motoring magazine. Funny, I can remember every word of the poem, but I can't remember which magazine it was, or what year!!)
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