Bonny Lass posts misery
Divn't worry
Better out than in;)
Goodnight freckle.
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Helen.
Moonlight caresses her brow,
Whilst the gentle breeze stirs,
Such beauty never so pure as now,
No truer heart than hers.
My heart will always be yours to keep,
I'm sorry i don't always say,
Sometimes it's easier when you sleep,
To show i care this way.
I watch you sleep how quiet you lay,
Happy to share the rest of my life,
Loving you more with each day,
My soul mate and lover my wife.
By Matt Harmston.
Good morning all!
Fire lecture at work this morning (dull, necessary, dull)...so thought i might need a lift.....
Bazonka
Say Bazonka every day
That's what my grandma used to say
It keeps at bay the Asian Flu'
And both your elbows free from glue.
So say Bazonka every day
(That's what my grandma used to say)
Don't say it if your socks are dry!
Or when the sun is in your eye!
Never say it in the dark
(The word you see emits a spark)
Only say it in the day
(That's what my grandma used to say)
Young Tiny Tim took her advice
He said it once, he said it twice
he said it till the day he died
And even after that he tried
To say Bazonka! every day
Just like my grandma used to say.
Now folks around declare it's true
That every night at half past two
If you'll stand upon your head
And shout Bazonka! from your bed
You'll hear the word as clear as day
Just like my grandma used to say!
Spike Milligan </B>
Ohhh thank god! I have just trawled through hundreds of my own posts to try and find the one with the article about haiku...the article that I found by mistake (I really did HHH) when researching for my commission but have been unable to find ever since. I will post the link here in case anyone else is interested:
[URL="http://poemshape.wordpress.com/category/guides/about-haiku/"]
I'm currently trying to work on my India haiku collection. DT did you do anything with yours?
On the Moor in January
Moor wind and snow
the roaring nothingness in my ears
the bite of it on my skin
the craziness that takes hold of me
so I lurch like a madman
and laugh and cry
and lose all proportion
then the tree appears in its grotesquerie
black and twisted, solitary
and I hug it like a brother
more than a brother
rooted unrooted together.
Kenneth White