Today's poet

What a great idea Freckle.

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Originally Posted by freckle

Aw Hes poor you, i think you have earned that week in a health farm somewhere! take care you!...stef i loved your toe/foot poem, i have often thought a true sign of undying affection would come via the kiss of a fell running toe!!!!!!!:eek:....herakles i see you have been as busy as ever, i have an image in my mind of you doing the Anniversary Waltz writing at the same time!

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Thanks Freckle, I am actually taking some time out to visit my mum in Penzance next week. The restorative powers of the ocean should help.

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Originally Posted by N-dubya

Haven't been on for a few days basically laziness and I managed to actually see some mountains this weekend (Carneddau, I was defeated you won the war). dya like what i did there:rolleyes:

Poem I have written in response to an article in local paper

Garbage had gathered, spread from
the pedal bin into corners and cupboards
anywhere the house would accomodate.

She was used to him, her
Husband, taking out the bags to the bin.
Bags of scrapfood, glass and tins; the days
before recycling.

But he had left thirty five years ago
and she waited for him to return to
Take out the bags, the bags that have
heaped like memories then split and spilled
the hours of each day across the floor.

She kept the rubbish, she kept
the eggshells , breadcrusts and potato peelings
she kept the scraps of time.

Some really good stuff at the mo from herakles frecks stef f and oneoffpoet keep posting

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Good stuff NDubya. I really like this, can totally picture it.

A ghostly siren
three mournful hoots from above
the eagle owl glares

(can't believe that this blooming huge owl was peering down fromthe chimney at the studio tonight. I've never seen one in the wild before)

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Originally Posted by Hes

A ghostly siren
three mournful hoots from above
the eagle owl glares

(can't believe that this blooming huge owl was peering down fromthe chimney at the studio tonight. I've never seen one in the wild before)

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North Yorkshire farmers
lock new-born baby lambs up
Eagle Owl about!

:eek:

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Originally Posted by Hes

Thanks Freckle, I am actually taking some time out to visit my mum in Penzance next week. The restorative powers of the ocean should help.

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Lovely place, Cornwall, give my best to the ocean, have a good time and watch out for pirates;)

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Originally Posted by freckle

Aw Hes poor you, i think you have earned that week in a health farm somewhere! take care you!...stef i loved your toe/foot poem, i have often thought a true sign of undying affection would come via the kiss of a fell running toe!!!!!!!:eek:

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That is along the lines of a Tim Burton fairy tale...

For whoever shall kiss the skanky toe;
Shall have the princess's hand in marriage.

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Originally Posted by Hes

A ghostly siren
three mournful hoots from above
the eagle owl glares

(can't believe that this blooming huge owl was peering down fromthe chimney at the studio tonight. I've never seen one in the wild before)

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Wowee, I bet that was brilliant. They are pretty rare (or keep a low profile) but they are quite big aren't they. They'd soon have your eye out! :eek:

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Originally Posted by Hes

Thanks Freckle, I am actually taking some time out to visit my mum in Penzance next week. The restorative powers of the ocean should help.

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That'll be lovely. I've not been down there since college when we were down there for a 6 week field trip. A beautiful part of the world. That train journey is spectaclar too. I trust you aren't biking there! :eek:

Well I can't beat an eagle owl :cool:

So a poem about a place we would all like to go if only for a break now and then :)

Where the Sidewalk Ends

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

Shel Silverstein