Today's poet

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Originally Posted by Old Whippet

Sickening language. Those were MY sensibilities!! No wonder there are some who use ipods during races (see another thread). The 'Ban Everything' Brigade have not taken into account these devices as sensibility protectors.

Running through the Commondale muck....(you can see where this is going!)
A fell poet ran out of luck
When twisting an ankle
With a pain that did rankle
Cried out to the world the word 'Ouch'


or something to that effect.

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He he!

Where's mine? There must be something wrong with my plumbing...I'm off to see the landlord to complain!

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Masham Man

Emm we just love the BEER. Did you know every house in Masham has beer piped straight to the cold tap.

Hic

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Hee hee!! I like it OW! Sorry about the unladylike language...I didn't have enough breath to say 'oh my goodness, that was almost very painful'.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Old Whippet

Sickening language. Those were MY sensibilities!! No wonder there are some who use ipods during races (see another thread). The 'Ban Everything' Brigade have not taken into account these devices as sensibility protectors.

Running through the Commondale muck....(you can see where this is going!)
A fell poet ran out of luck
When twisting an ankle
With a pain that did rankle
Cried out to the world the word 'Ouch'


or something to that effect.

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Love it! Good choice MM. Thanks for the heads up on the radio programme too. I'll be tuning into it on Iplayer I think due to my inclination to be owl-like as opposed to larky!

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Originally Posted by Masham Man

Saw a couple of Hares chasing each other on the the way home from work tonight, so here is my first offering to .........today's poet

In the black furrow of a field
I saw an old witch-hare this night;
And she cocked a lissome ear,
And she eyed the moon so bright,
And nibbled of the green;
And I whispered 'Whsst! witch-hare,'
Away like a ghostie o'er the field
She fled, and left the moonlight there.

Walter de la Mare

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It's this saturday Hes you will be Larky, its Trollers! Anyway I'll leave you owls I'm off to bed

The Tame Hare

She came to him in dreams — her ears
Diddering like antennae, and her eyes
Wide as dark flowers where the dew
Holds and dissolves a purple hoard of shadow.
The thunder clouds crouched back, and the world opened
Tiny and bright as celandine after rain.
A gentle light was on her, so that he
Who saw the talons in the vetch
Remembered now how buttercup and daisy
Would bounce like springs when a child's foot stepped off them.
Oh, but never dared he touch —
Her fur was still electric to the fingers.

Yet of all the beasts blazoned in gilt and blood
In the black-bound scriptures of his mind,
Pentecostal dove and paschal lamb,
Eagle, lion, serpent, she alone
Lived also in the noon of ducks and sparrows;
And the cleft-mouthed kiss which plugged the night with fever
Was sweetened by a lunch of docks and lettuce.

Norman Nicholson (1914-1987)

Oh my goodness....of course!! Well, that sorts out what I listen to whilst I eat my breakfast! Goodnight!

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Masham Man

It's this saturday Hes you will be Larky, its Trollers! Anyway I'll leave you owls I'm off to bed

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Quote:

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Originally Posted by Hes

The Tame Hare

She came to him in dreams — her ears
Diddering like antennae, and her eyes
Wide as dark flowers where the dew
Holds and dissolves a purple hoard of shadow.
The thunder clouds crouched back, and the world opened
Tiny and bright as celandine after rain.
A gentle light was on her, so that he
Who saw the talons in the vetch
Remembered now how buttercup and daisy
Would bounce like springs when a child's foot stepped off them.
Oh, but never dared he touch —
Her fur was still electric to the fingers.

Yet of all the beasts blazoned in gilt and blood
In the black-bound scriptures of his mind,
Pentecostal dove and paschal lamb,
Eagle, lion, serpent, she alone
Lived also in the noon of ducks and sparrows;
And the cleft-mouthed kiss which plugged the night with fever
Was sweetened by a lunch of docks and lettuce.

Norman Nicholson (1914-1987)

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This is an interesting poem...who knew that hares could be so seductive!

I really like that quality and wonder if it is to do with the belief that witches shapeshifted into hares. I read that Nicholson's poem is inspired by Cowper's about his tame hare. It is interesting how the hare seemingly has so much more of a sense of knowingness, intelligence and mystery than a rabbit and has inspired so much mythology and devotion in comparison.

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Originally Posted by freckle

This is an interesting poem...who knew that hares could be so seductive!

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Quote:

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Originally Posted by Old Whippet

Sickening language. Those were MY sensibilities!! No wonder there are some who use ipods during races (see another thread). The 'Ban Everything' Brigade have not taken into account these devices as sensibility protectors.

Running through the Commondale muck....(you can see where this is going!)
A fell poet ran out of luck
When twisting an ankle
With a pain that did rankle
Cried out to the world the word 'Ouch'




or something to that effect.

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;);););)