POEMS - With Tongue In Cheek
- keithgood838
- Posts: 2478
- Joined: Sun Feb 10, 2008 6:30 pm
Re: POEMS - With Tongue In Cheek
A few lines for National Poetry Day:
AN AUTUMN GREETING
'Come,' said the wind to the leaves one day,
'Come over the meadow and we will play,
Put on your dresses of red and gold,
For summer is gone and days grow cold.'
AN AUTUMN GREETING
'Come,' said the wind to the leaves one day,
'Come over the meadow and we will play,
Put on your dresses of red and gold,
For summer is gone and days grow cold.'
- keithgood838
- Posts: 2478
- Joined: Sun Feb 10, 2008 6:30 pm
Re: POEMS - With Tongue In Cheek
THOUGHT OF THE DAY TRILOGY
The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodlands paths are dry;
Under the October twilight
The water mirrors a still sky ...
Horatio said to Ophelia,
'I will write a verse for thee,
what sort of pencil should I use,
2B or not 2B?'
I think we should levy a sugar tax
thus curtailing obesity,
and the proceeds to cancel tax credits cuts
helping to prevent poverty ...
The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodlands paths are dry;
Under the October twilight
The water mirrors a still sky ...
Horatio said to Ophelia,
'I will write a verse for thee,
what sort of pencil should I use,
2B or not 2B?'
I think we should levy a sugar tax
thus curtailing obesity,
and the proceeds to cancel tax credits cuts
helping to prevent poverty ...
- keithgood838
- Posts: 2478
- Joined: Sun Feb 10, 2008 6:30 pm
Re: POEMS - With Tongue In Cheek
I was pleased to have the following verse published
this month; I reprise here by way of celebration:
NOTIONS of NOVEMBER
(November always seems to me the
Norway of the year - Emily Dickinson)
November is the Cinders of the calendar,
the drudge month a far cry from the Ball
stuck between Christmas's pious pleasure
and the feckless fag-end of the Fall
when the dree of BST's departure
is the cue for cold winter to call.
God speed celebratory December
so we can go partying after all.
Keith Good
this month; I reprise here by way of celebration:
NOTIONS of NOVEMBER
(November always seems to me the
Norway of the year - Emily Dickinson)
November is the Cinders of the calendar,
the drudge month a far cry from the Ball
stuck between Christmas's pious pleasure
and the feckless fag-end of the Fall
when the dree of BST's departure
is the cue for cold winter to call.
God speed celebratory December
so we can go partying after all.
Keith Good
Re: POEMS - With Tongue In Cheek
A nice one Keith!
- keithgood838
- Posts: 2478
- Joined: Sun Feb 10, 2008 6:30 pm
Re: POEMS - With Tongue In Cheek
Thanks Eman, your support is always vey welcome.
DIDACTIC DIVERSITY
In sobering contemplation, the depraved folly in pursuit
of racial purity, as the brutal forces of bigotry clumped
across Europe, culminated in the world's most heinous
crime perpetrated by perverted political dictum.
By glorious contrast, transported by William voyagers
Shakespeare, Blake, Wordsworth and Yeats et al
we are whisked, aboard this cosmopolitan-created craft,
to wonderlands spanning the entire emotional spectrum.
Keith Good
DIDACTIC DIVERSITY
In sobering contemplation, the depraved folly in pursuit
of racial purity, as the brutal forces of bigotry clumped
across Europe, culminated in the world's most heinous
crime perpetrated by perverted political dictum.
By glorious contrast, transported by William voyagers
Shakespeare, Blake, Wordsworth and Yeats et al
we are whisked, aboard this cosmopolitan-created craft,
to wonderlands spanning the entire emotional spectrum.
Keith Good
Re: POEMS - With Tongue In Cheek
Nicely put Keith!
- keithgood838
- Posts: 2478
- Joined: Sun Feb 10, 2008 6:30 pm
Re: POEMS - With Tongue In Cheek
Thanks Eman, the English language never ceases to surprise me
by its versatility and flexibility, probably due to its numerous
international influences.
The following is a revised seasonal piece about which I would
welcome comments.
CLASSIC CHRISTMAS
The epic boasts no arresting opening line.
A new-born deprived of basic wherewithal,
in midwinter in Herod-ruled Palestine.
From a beatific kernel this unpretentious birth
develops into the most phenomenal
biographical narrative related on Earth.
Commencing with infanticide by proclamation,
it gathers momentum with mind-clamping miracles,
climaxes in self-sacrificing immolation,
and concludes in a sequel unknown in fiction.
A celebration of this collection of chronicles
is an annually observed, uplifting festival
that puts a smile on a weary world's face,
briefly whips away winter's long-night pall,
and plants goodwill in the hearts of the human race.
Why cannot we resolve to own
the masterpiece and abjure the literary loan?
Keith Good
by its versatility and flexibility, probably due to its numerous
international influences.
The following is a revised seasonal piece about which I would
welcome comments.
CLASSIC CHRISTMAS
The epic boasts no arresting opening line.
A new-born deprived of basic wherewithal,
in midwinter in Herod-ruled Palestine.
From a beatific kernel this unpretentious birth
develops into the most phenomenal
biographical narrative related on Earth.
Commencing with infanticide by proclamation,
it gathers momentum with mind-clamping miracles,
climaxes in self-sacrificing immolation,
and concludes in a sequel unknown in fiction.
A celebration of this collection of chronicles
is an annually observed, uplifting festival
that puts a smile on a weary world's face,
briefly whips away winter's long-night pall,
and plants goodwill in the hearts of the human race.
Why cannot we resolve to own
the masterpiece and abjure the literary loan?
Keith Good
Re: POEMS - With Tongue In Cheek
Keith, I think it sums it up pretty good for this crazy mixed up world we live in.
Sometimes, I kind of yearn for the simpler days of yesteryear. I guess I must be maturing somewhat, yet I refuse to get older. LOL
Sometimes, I kind of yearn for the simpler days of yesteryear. I guess I must be maturing somewhat, yet I refuse to get older. LOL
- keithgood838
- Posts: 2478
- Joined: Sun Feb 10, 2008 6:30 pm
Re: POEMS - With Tongue In Cheek
Eman, our London weather is currently characterised
by nuisance winds, spitting rain and lowering clouds.
So let's conjure some real London weather courtesy
of a great classical poet of yesteryear:
LONDON SNOW
When men were all asleep and snow came flying,
In large white flakes falling on the city brown,
Stealthily and perpetually settling and loosely lying
Hushing the latest traffic of the drowsy town;
Deadening, muffling, stifling its murmurs failing;
Lazily and incessantly floating down and down:
Silently sifting and veiling road, roof and railing;
Hiding difference, making unevenness even,
Into angles and crevices softly drifting and sailing.
All night it fell, and when full inches seven
It lay in the depth of its uncompacted lightness,
The clouds blew off from a high and frosty heaven;
And all woke earlier from the unaccustomed brightness
Of the winter dawning, the strange unheavenly glare.
The eye marvelled - marvelled at the dazzling whiteness;
The ear hearkened to the stillness of the solemn air;
No sound of wheel rumbling nor of foot falling,
And the busy morning cries came thin and spare.
Then boys gathered up the crystal manna to freeze
Their tongues with tasting, their hands with snowballing;
Or rioted in a drift, plunging up to the knees;
Or peering up from under the white-mossed wonder,
'O look at the trees!' they cried, 'O look at the trees!'
With lessened load a few carts creak and blunder,
Following along the white deserted way,
A country company long dispersed asunder:
When now already the sun, in pale display
Standing by Paul's high dome, spread forth below
His sparkling beams, and awoke the stir of day.
For now doors open, the war is waged with snow;
And trains of sombre men, past tale of number,
Tread long brown paths, as toward their toil they go:
But even for them awhile no cares encumber
Their minds diverted; the daily word is unspoken,
The daily thoughts of labour and sorrow slumber
At the sight of the beauty that greets them,
for the charm they have broken.
Robert Bridges
(1844-1930)
by nuisance winds, spitting rain and lowering clouds.
So let's conjure some real London weather courtesy
of a great classical poet of yesteryear:
LONDON SNOW
When men were all asleep and snow came flying,
In large white flakes falling on the city brown,
Stealthily and perpetually settling and loosely lying
Hushing the latest traffic of the drowsy town;
Deadening, muffling, stifling its murmurs failing;
Lazily and incessantly floating down and down:
Silently sifting and veiling road, roof and railing;
Hiding difference, making unevenness even,
Into angles and crevices softly drifting and sailing.
All night it fell, and when full inches seven
It lay in the depth of its uncompacted lightness,
The clouds blew off from a high and frosty heaven;
And all woke earlier from the unaccustomed brightness
Of the winter dawning, the strange unheavenly glare.
The eye marvelled - marvelled at the dazzling whiteness;
The ear hearkened to the stillness of the solemn air;
No sound of wheel rumbling nor of foot falling,
And the busy morning cries came thin and spare.
Then boys gathered up the crystal manna to freeze
Their tongues with tasting, their hands with snowballing;
Or rioted in a drift, plunging up to the knees;
Or peering up from under the white-mossed wonder,
'O look at the trees!' they cried, 'O look at the trees!'
With lessened load a few carts creak and blunder,
Following along the white deserted way,
A country company long dispersed asunder:
When now already the sun, in pale display
Standing by Paul's high dome, spread forth below
His sparkling beams, and awoke the stir of day.
For now doors open, the war is waged with snow;
And trains of sombre men, past tale of number,
Tread long brown paths, as toward their toil they go:
But even for them awhile no cares encumber
Their minds diverted; the daily word is unspoken,
The daily thoughts of labour and sorrow slumber
At the sight of the beauty that greets them,
for the charm they have broken.
Robert Bridges
(1844-1930)
Re: POEMS - With Tongue In Cheek
Wow.. I guess that sums it up Keith.
Have a friend going to Edinburgh and he told me the weather wasn't too nice and it was rainy?
Have a friend going to Edinburgh and he told me the weather wasn't too nice and it was rainy?
- keithgood838
- Posts: 2478
- Joined: Sun Feb 10, 2008 6:30 pm
Re: POEMS - With Tongue In Cheek
Eman, we are currently experiencing the warmest December
temperatures on record; I did some jacketless leaf-clearing
in the garden today - going out is to take a walk on the mild side ...
Oops!
This month I has the following two verses published
in a West Cork annual magazine:
HAPPY NEW YEAR
Gloss-covered guest the visits from you
make my months mellow all the year through,
you bring scenic West Cork into my home
presented in friendly sharp-focus chrome.
Your writings ... redolent of sages,
you sometimes let verse grace your pages
and when life's fast-pace pressure grinds
I find relief within your lines.
So please, Opinion, remain pristine
and cheer me throughout twenty-sixteen.
MIDWINTER MAKEOVER
Christmas imbues the world with an aura
of celestial-sent beneficence
when giving takes centre stage for a
while, bestowing joy on the audience.
Making a sunrise vision of each face
and our winter-bound world a brighter place.
Keith Good
temperatures on record; I did some jacketless leaf-clearing
in the garden today - going out is to take a walk on the mild side ...
Oops!
This month I has the following two verses published
in a West Cork annual magazine:
HAPPY NEW YEAR
Gloss-covered guest the visits from you
make my months mellow all the year through,
you bring scenic West Cork into my home
presented in friendly sharp-focus chrome.
Your writings ... redolent of sages,
you sometimes let verse grace your pages
and when life's fast-pace pressure grinds
I find relief within your lines.
So please, Opinion, remain pristine
and cheer me throughout twenty-sixteen.
MIDWINTER MAKEOVER
Christmas imbues the world with an aura
of celestial-sent beneficence
when giving takes centre stage for a
while, bestowing joy on the audience.
Making a sunrise vision of each face
and our winter-bound world a brighter place.
Keith Good
Re: POEMS - With Tongue In Cheek
Weather is very mild in Edinburgh, today was also sunny for awhile but rain in the evening.Eman wrote:Wow.. I guess that sums it up Keith.
Have a friend going to Edinburgh and he told me the weather wasn't too nice and it was rainy?
Re: POEMS - With Tongue In Cheek
The warmest of the mildest weather is down in the south of England .........as usual ...............as you go up the country it gets less mild ..............but all the attention in this mild spell centres of the south of the country
"My Tears Will Fall Now That You're Gone,
I Can't Help But Cry, But I Must Go On"
I Can't Help But Cry, But I Must Go On"
Re: POEMS - With Tongue In Cheek
Well it's 55 degrees here which is amazing for December! Five years ago I had icicles four feet long at my windows, remember that Winter? It was dreadful !!!ROBERT M. wrote:The warmest of the mildest weather is down in the south of England .........as usual ...............as you go up the country it gets less mild ..............but all the attention in this mild spell centres of the south of the country
Re: POEMS - With Tongue In Cheek
It was dreadful Karl ........freeeeeezing
"My Tears Will Fall Now That You're Gone,
I Can't Help But Cry, But I Must Go On"
I Can't Help But Cry, But I Must Go On"