Today's poet

Quote:

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Originally Posted by merrylegs

Hey diddle diddle, the cat did a piddle,
All over the kitchen floor,
The little dog laughed to see such fun,
So the cat did a little bit more:eek:

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Excellent. :D

I just know that X-Runner is out there somewhere and will come and outclass us all.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

Or it might have ended up something like this....

Sun of the sleepless! Petzl Myo XP!
Whose powerful beam lights all I can see,
That show'st the darkness thou can dispel,
How like art thou to joy remember'd well!

So gleams the headtorch, the light of other days,
Which shines, and warms with its powerful rays;
A night-beam splendour watcheth to behold,
Damn! It went pop. I need a new bulb!

---

HHH...you are good...real good boyo!

A Soliloquy Of The Full Moon, She Being In A Mad Passion

by Samuel Coleridge

Now as Heaven is my Lot, they're the Pests of the Nation!
Wherever they can come
With clankum and blankum
'Tis all Botheration, & Hell & Damnation,
With fun, jeering
Conjuring
Sky-staring,
Loungering,
And still to the tune of Transmogrification--
Those muttering
Spluttering
Ventriloquogusty
Poets
With no Hats
Or Hats that are rusty.
They're my Torment and Curse
And harass me worse
And bait me and bay me, far sorer I vow
Than the Screech of the Owl
Or the witch-wolf's long howl,
Or sheep-killing Butcher-dog's inward Bow wow
For me they all spite--an unfortunate Wight.
And the very first moment that I came to Light
A Rascal call'd Voss the more to his scandal,
Turn'd me into a sickle with never a handle.
A Night or two after a worse Rogue there came,
The head of the Gang, one Wordsworth by name--
`Ho! What's in the wind?' 'Tis the voice of a Wizzard!
I saw him look at me most terribly blue !
He was hunting for witch-rhymes from great A to Izzard,
And soon as he'd found them made no more ado
But chang'd me at once to a little Canoe.
From this strange Enchantment uncharm'd by degrees
I began to take courage & hop'd for some Ease,
When one Coleridge, a Raff of the self-same Banditti
Past by--& intending no doubt to be witty,
Because I'd th' ill-fortune his taste to displease,
He turn'd up his nose,
And in pitiful Prose
Made me into the half of a small Cheshire Cheese.
Well, a night or two past--it was wind, rain & hail--
And I ventur'd abroad in a thick Cloak & veil--
But the very first Evening he saw me again
The last mentioned Ruffian popp'd out of his Den--
I was resting a moment on the bare edge of Naddle
I fancy the sight of me turn'd his Brains addle--
For what was I now?
A complete Barley-mow
And when I climb'd higher he made a long leg,
And chang'd me at once to an Ostrich's Egg--
But now Heaven be praised in contempt of the Loon,
I am I myself I, the jolly full Moon.
Yet my heart is still fluttering--
For I heard the Rogue muttering--
He was hulking and skulking at the skirt of a Wood
When lightly & brightly on tip-toe I stood
On the long level Line of a motionless Cloud
And ho! what a Skittle-ground! quoth he aloud
And wish'd from his heart nine Nine-pins to see
In brightness & size just proportion'd to me.
So I fear'd from my soul,
That he'd make me a Bowl,
But in spite of his spite
This was more than his might
And still Heaven be prais'd! in contempt of the Loon
I am I myself I, the jolly full Moon.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

Excellent. :D

I just know that X-Runner is out there somewhere and will come and outclass us all.

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I hope so...I miss X runner ( I am such a sop!!!...someone slap me!)

MG you just sold that race to me!

Er...well it's got MOON in the title...:D

The Moonflowers

It's as if the dark, which had before
just been context, gave to vulnerability
a permission, almost: fleshy saucers of
spilled cream, so many parchment fists,
unfisting; and now, in pieces, the delicate
mask of an indifference offered radically
up against what, each time, seems as
unthinkable, as unexpected, as when,

in the long dream of retraction, that sea
that is finally not a sea, but what else
to call it, begins again its shifting, and
though to every push of the will forward
there's something noble—which is to say,
something lonely, also—it's too late.


CARL PHILLIPS

If that wasn't drug-induced then I'd be mightily surprised.

At least he harnessed the power of his rant to good effect.

I like that, although I'm not sure if it was supposed to be funny!

Quote:

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Originally Posted by freckle

HHH...you are good...real good boyo!

A Soliloquy Of The Full Moon, She Being In A Mad Passion

by Samuel Coleridge

Now as Heaven is my Lot, they're the Pests of the Nation!
Wherever they can come
With clankum and blankum
'Tis all Botheration, & Hell & Damnation,....................

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Aaaaaah, a Lonely Moon poem...


TO THE MOON

Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,
Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth,
And ever changing, like a Joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?

By Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)

The Mermaid’s Wish

Awaken now, or soon be awoke
A chariot’s appeared
Seahorse drawn and mermaid driven
The fish popped up and peered
From the sandy sea-shelves
They watch her graceful dance,
The princess of the lake
Eager for amber sunbeams
Glassy surf won’t penetrate
To shine on coral kingdoms
Within the pearly deep
Her one wish
On brittle star
This fairy of the lagoon
To dance among both stars and shells
And sing to the man in the moon…

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mossdog

Aaaaaah, a Lonely Moon poem...


TO THE MOON

Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,
Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth,
And ever changing, like a Joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?

By Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)

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A nice find Mossy

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mossdog

Aaaaaah, a Lonely Moon poem...


TO THE MOON

Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,
Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth,
And ever changing, like a Joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?

By Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)

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beautiful...i am getting a taste for shelley in my old age....


HHH...yes that earlier poem does look a bit drug induced now you come to mention it! :D

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mountain Goatess

The Mermaid’s Wish

Awaken now, or soon be awoke
A chariot’s appeared
Seahorse drawn and mermaid driven
The fish popped up and peered
From the sandy sea-shelves
They watch her graceful dance,
The princess of the lake
Eager for amber sunbeams
Glassy surf won’t penetrate
To shine on coral kingdoms
Within the pearly deep
Her one wish
On brittle star
This fairy of the lagoon
To dance among both stars and shells
And sing to the man in the moon…

---

ha ha - just saved the moon reference to the very very end. :D

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

If that wasn't drug-induced then I'd be mightily surprised.

At least he harnessed the power of his rant to good effect.

I like that, although I'm not sure if it was supposed to be funny!

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Thanks HHH...

And here he's (Coleridge that is), have a different perspective...more companionable, perhaps.

From The Rime of the Acient Mariner

The moving Moon went up the sky.
And nowhere did abide;
Softly she was going up,
And a star or two beside-

By Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834)

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mossdog

Aaaaaah, a Lonely Moon poem...


TO THE MOON

Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,
Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth,
And ever changing, like a Joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?

By Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)

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Sounds like a description of myself at the moment! :(

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

ha ha - just saved the moon reference to the very very end. :D

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Yes, what a tease!:D

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mossdog

Yes, what a tease!:D

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:D ;)

Quote:

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Originally Posted by freckle

beautiful...i am getting a taste for shelley in my old age....


HHH...yes that earlier poem does look a bit drug induced now you come to mention it! :D

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Old Age! You are the youngest here! :);)

He does have a way with words though....

My soul is an enchanted boat,
Which, like a sleeping swan, doth float
Upon the silver waves of thy sweet singing;
And thine doth like an angel sit
Beside a helm conducting it,
Whilst all the winds with melody are ringing.
It seems to float ever, for ever,
Upon that many-winding river,
Between mountains, woods, abysses,
A paradise of wildernesses!
Till, like one in slumber bound,
Borne to the ocean, I float down, around,
Into a sea profound, of ever-spreading sound:

Meanwhile thy spirit lifts its pinions
In music's most serene dominions;
Catching the winds that fan that happy heaven.
And we sail on, away, afar,
Without a course, without a star,
But, by the instinct of sweet music driven;
Till through Elysian garden islets
By thee, most beautiful of pilots,
Where never mortal pinnace glided,
The boat of my desire is guided:
Realms where the air we breathe is love,
Which in the winds and on the waves doth move,
Harmonizing this earth with what we feel above.

We have past Age's icy caves,
And Manhood's dark and tossing waves,
And Youth's smooth ocean, smiling to betray:
Beyond the glassy gulfs we flee
Of shadow-peopled Infancy,
Through Death and Birth, to a diviner day;
A paradise of vaulted bowers,
Lit by downward-gazing flowers,
And watery paths that wind between
Wildernesses calm and green,
Peopled by shapes too bright to see,
And rest, having beheld; somewhat like thee;
Which walk upon the sea, and chant melodiously!

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

If that wasn't drug-induced then I'd be mightily surprised.

At least he harnessed the power of his rant to good effect.

I like that, although I'm not sure if it was supposed to be funny!

---

off his heed!

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mountain Goatess

Sounds like a description of myself at the moment! :(

---

Oh no MG. Take heart from Christina (well sort of!)

THE HALF MOON SHOWS
A FACE OF PLAINTIVE SWEETNESS

The half moon shows a face of plaintive sweetness
Ready and poised to wax or wane;
A fire of pale desire in incompleteness,
Tending to pleasure or to pain:-
Lo, while we gaze she rolleth on in fleetness
To perfect loss or perfect gain.
Half bitterness we know, we know half sweetness;
This world is all on wax, on wane:
When shall completeness round time's incompleteness,
Fulfilling joy, fulfilling pain?-
Lo, while we ask, life rolleth on in fleetness
To finished loss or finished gain.

By Christina Rossetti

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

Old Age! You are the youngest here! :);)

He does have a way with words though....

My soul is an enchanted boat,
Which, like a sleeping swan, doth float
Upon the silver waves of thy sweet singing;
And thine doth like an angel sit
Beside a helm conducting it,
Whilst all the winds with melody are ringing.
It seems to float ever, for ever,
Upon that many-winding river,
Between mountains, woods, abysses,
A paradise of wildernesses!
Till, like one in slumber bound,
Borne to the ocean, I float down, around,
Into a sea profound, of ever-spreading sound:

Meanwhile thy spirit lifts its pinions
In music's most serene dominions;
Catching the winds that fan that happy heaven.
And we sail on, away, afar,
Without a course, without a star,
But, by the instinct of sweet music driven;
Till through Elysian garden islets
By thee, most beautiful of pilots,
Where never mortal pinnace glided,
The boat of my desire is guided:
Realms where the air we breathe is love,
Which in the winds and on the waves doth move,
Harmonizing this earth with what we feel above.

We have past Age's icy caves,
And Manhood's dark and tossing waves,
And Youth's smooth ocean, smiling to betray:
Beyond the glassy gulfs we flee
Of shadow-peopled Infancy,
Through Death and Birth, to a diviner day;
A paradise of vaulted bowers,
Lit by downward-gazing flowers,
And watery paths that wind between
Wildernesses calm and green,
Peopled by shapes too bright to see,
And rest, having beheld; somewhat like thee;
Which walk upon the sea, and chant melodiously!

Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Wow!...that's just awesome...so soothing...i reckon if david ginola or some other hunk read that out loud to me I might actually drift off to sleep...or am i just weird? (don't answer that!) :D

PS I have now got to write out xmas cards for 25 three year olds...now if ever there was a frustrating and pointless task then that is it!....never mind this thread is a beautiful distraction

Quote:

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Originally Posted by freckle

Wow!...that's just awesome...so soothing...i reckon if david ginola or some other hunk read that out loud to me I might actually drift off to sleep...or am i just weird? (don't answer that!) :D

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Hunks and poetry send you to sleep then:confused::D

Quote:

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Originally Posted by freckle

Wow!...that's just awesome...so soothing...i reckon if david ginola or some other hunk read that out loud to me I might actually drift off to sleep...or am i just weird? (don't answer that!) :D

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I absolutely refuse to comment! :D

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

Old Age! You are the youngest here! :);)

He does have a way with words though....

My soul is an enchanted boat,
Which, like a sleeping swan, doth float
Upon the silver waves of thy sweet singing;
And thine doth like an angel sit
Beside a helm conducting it,
Whilst all the winds with melody are ringing.
It seems to float ever, for ever,
Upon that many-winding river,
Between mountains, woods, abysses,
A paradise of wildernesses!
Till, like one in slumber bound,
Borne to the ocean, I float down, around,
Into a sea profound, of ever-spreading sound:

Meanwhile thy spirit lifts its pinions
In music's most serene dominions;
Catching the winds that fan that happy heaven.
And we sail on, away, afar,
Without a course, without a star,
But, by the instinct of sweet music driven;
Till through Elysian garden islets
By thee, most beautiful of pilots,
Where never mortal pinnace glided,
The boat of my desire is guided:
Realms where the air we breathe is love,
Which in the winds and on the waves doth move,
Harmonizing this earth with what we feel above.

We have past Age's icy caves,
And Manhood's dark and tossing waves,
And Youth's smooth ocean, smiling to betray:
Beyond the glassy gulfs we flee
Of shadow-peopled Infancy,
Through Death and Birth, to a diviner day;
A paradise of vaulted bowers,
Lit by downward-gazing flowers,
And watery paths that wind between
Wildernesses calm and green,
Peopled by shapes too bright to see,
And rest, having beheld; somewhat like thee;
Which walk upon the sea, and chant melodiously!

Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Ok, ok, he's pretty impressive , but perhaps a bit..er..cheesy? And what do we read into the lines "We have past Age's icy caves, And Manhood's dark and tossing waves"? Maybe I'm being over analytical in a Freudian sense, but.......?
:D

Quote:

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Originally Posted by merrylegs

Hunks and poetry send you to sleep then:confused::D

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Oooo the things I could say...but I better hadn't ;)

by the way...think you should be at the top of the top ten merry! just for the avatar alone! :D

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mossdog

Ok, ok, he's pretty impressive , but perhaps a bit..er..cheesy? And what do we read into the lines "We have past Age's icy caves, And Manhood's dark and tossing waves"? Maybe I'm being over analytical in a Freudian sense, but.......?
:D

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ha ha. I noticed that line on second reading but didn't dare comment. I've got a bad enough reputation as it is! :D

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mossdog

Oh no MG. Take heart from Christina (well sort of!)

THE HALF MOON SHOWS
A FACE OF PLAINTIVE SWEETNESS

The half moon shows a face of plaintive sweetness
Ready and poised to wax or wane;
A fire of pale desire in incompleteness,
Tending to pleasure or to pain:-
Lo, while we gaze she rolleth on in fleetness
To perfect loss or perfect gain.
Half bitterness we know, we know half sweetness;
This world is all on wax, on wane:
When shall completeness round time's incompleteness,
Fulfilling joy, fulfilling pain?-
Lo, while we ask, life rolleth on in fleetness
To finished loss or finished gain.

By Christina Rossetti

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Thanks Mossdog!

I like your Chinese proverb! I like my cup to be half full! ;)

Quote:

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Originally Posted by freckle

Oooo the things I could say...but I better hadn't ;)

by the way...think you should be at the top of the top ten merry! just for the avatar alone! :D

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He's a top dog, want a real dog that behave's like that:cool:

Child Moon

by: Carl Sandburg (1878-1967)

The child's wonder
At the old moon
Comes back nightly.
She points her finger
To the far silent yellow thing
Shining through the branches
Filtering on the leaves a golden sand,
Crying with her little tongue, "See the moon!"
And in her bed fading to sleep
With babblings of the moon on her little mouth.

I adore the youthful awe, innocence and naivety of this poem.

For MG, with references to the moon AND full cups!!!

The Crescent Moon
by: Du Fu (712-770)
translated by W. J. B. Fletcher


The crescent Moon desired to mount on high.
Its slanting course ne'er grew to orbéd sway.
A little while it peered above the Hill;
Then lost in cloudy Sunset passed away.

The Milky Way no change of color knew.
No lofty peaks gleamed chiller for its fears.
The dews that fall so white within the Court
The flowers' cups wept full with quiet tears.

Yes, we're on a roll, more moon and CUPS...and.....looooooove!:)

Absence
by: Amy Lowell (1874-1925)


My cup is empty to-night,
Cold and dry are its sides,
Chilled by the wind from the open window.
Empty and void, it sparkles white in the moonlight.
The room is filled with the strange scent
Of wistaria blossoms.
They sway in the moon's radiance
And tap against the wall.
But the cup of my heart is still,
And cold, and empty.

When you come, it brims
Red and trembling with blood,
Heart's blood for your drinking;
To fill your mouth with love
And the bitter-sweet taste of a soul.

I'll just go and Goggle mooncup to see if I can find any more............

;)

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mossdog

For MG, with references to the moon AND full cups!!!

The Crescent Moon
by: Du Fu (712-770)
translated by W. J. B. Fletcher


The crescent Moon desired to mount on high.
Its slanting course ne'er grew to orbéd sway.
A little while it peered above the Hill;
Then lost in cloudy Sunset passed away.

The Milky Way no change of color knew.
No lofty peaks gleamed chiller for its fears.
The dews that fall so white within the Court
The flowers' cups wept full with quiet tears.

---

Lost souls.

Oh pale and wondrous endymion moon,
Lead me to my lovers breast so i may be with her soon,
Alas she is ethereal and out of reach,
My whispering doleful beating heart has been breached.

The roses visage ever lost to me,
Summer sun shimmering o'er the sea,
Love is now a chimera dancing betwixt head and heart,
My soul shalt wonder endlessly always to be apart.

By Matt Harmston

Not quite moon rise, but this is bl***dy brilliant, me thinks...

After a Day We Stay in Bed Until the Sun is Close to Setting
by: Lyn Lifshin (1942- )


From Cold Comfort
He drives home
thru the black trees
with a poem
about me that will
make him famous
starting in his
fingers. He wishes
the wheel was his
Olympia typewriter.
He needs to get my
hair where he can
touch it on the long
drive thru the pine
trees, my musk still
drenching the car.
I want to read
this poem almost as
much, dazed, the
night's performance
has sucked me flat
and pale as an empty
sheet of non erasable
bond, has pulled
all color, all the
wet moist verbs
out the way he took
the stories I told
and made them in
to his own surreal
dreams. Even my
leaves and branches
became the green
arms of a child.
My mouth is dry, I
need to have his
poem where my clove
nipples press into his
blue striped cotton
smelling of sun and
wind in the pine
trees, a mirror that
will reflect my dark
eyes. I need this as
much as he needs
to invent me to
become himself.

Moon and fells.......


Moonlight

What time the meanest brick and stone
Take on a beauty not their own,
And past the flaw of builded wood
Shines the intention whole and good,
And all the little homes of man
Rise to a dimmer, nobler span;
When colour's absence gives escape
To the deeper spirit of the shape,

-- Then earth's great architecture swells
Among her mountains and her fells
Under the moon to amplitude
Massive and primitive and rude:

-- Then do the clouds like silver flags
Stream out above the tattered crags,
And black and silver all the coast
Marshalls its hunched and rocky host,
And headlands striding sombrely
Buttress the land against the sea,
-- The darkened land, the brightening wave --
And moonlight slants through Merlin's cave.

Victoria Sackville-West

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by tri-mind

Lost souls.

Oh pale and wondrous endymion moon,
Lead me to my lovers breast so i may be with her soon,
Alas she is ethereal and out of reach,
My whispering doleful beating heart has been breached.

The roses visage ever lost to me,
Summer sun shimmering o'er the sea,
Love is now a chimera dancing betwixt head and heart,
My soul shalt wonder endlessly always to be apart.

By Matt Harmston

---

Gosh Tri-mind, that poem makes me shiver with sadness, but (alas) also painful recognition. Yet, somehow it's reassuring to recognise another sharing similar emotions. Thanks.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mossdog

Not quite moon rise, but this is bl***dy brilliant, me thinks...

After a Day We Stay in Bed Until the Sun is Close to Setting
by: Lyn Lifshin (1942- )


From Cold Comfort
He drives home
thru the black trees
with a poem
about me that will
make him famous
starting in his
fingers. He wishes
the wheel was his
Olympia typewriter.
He needs to get my
hair where he can
touch it on the long
drive thru the pine
trees, my musk still
drenching the car.
I want to read
this poem almost as
much, dazed, the
night's performance
has sucked me flat
and pale as an empty
sheet of non erasable
bond, has pulled
all color, all the
wet moist verbs
out the way he took
the stories I told
and made them in
to his own surreal
dreams. Even my
leaves and branches
became the green
arms of a child.
My mouth is dry, I
need to have his
poem where my clove
nipples press into his
blue striped cotton
smelling of sun and
wind in the pine
trees, a mirror that
will reflect my dark
eyes. I need this as
much as he needs
to invent me to
become himself.

---

Holy moly gaucomole!....this is one of the best poems you have ever posted Mossy...and that is saying something!!!! where do you find them, brill!

oh still writing flaming xmas cards (aaaaaaaargh)

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

Moon and fells.......


Moonlight

What time the meanest brick and stone
Take on a beauty not their own,
And past the flaw of builded wood
Shines the intention whole and good,
And all the little homes of man
Rise to a dimmer, nobler span;
When colour's absence gives escape
To the deeper spirit of the shape,

-- Then earth's great architecture swells
Among her mountains and her fells
Under the moon to amplitude
Massive and primitive and rude:

-- Then do the clouds like silver flags
Stream out above the tattered crags,
And black and silver all the coast
Marshalls its hunched and rocky host,
And headlands striding sombrely
Buttress the land against the sea,
-- The darkened land, the brightening wave --
And moonlight slants through Merlin's cave.

Victoria Sackville-West

---

Oh yes. Very, very well done triple H, that's so beautiful.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

Holy moly gaucomole!....this is one of the best poems you have ever posted Mossy...and that is saying something!!!! where do you find them, brill!

oh still writing flaming xmas cards (aaaaaaaargh)

---

Good question. PoemHunter is a dead loss sometimes.

Are you in the need for some Christmassy poems then?

God I Hate Christmas




God I hate Christmas
with all it's good cheer
I hearing people laughin'
but I shed a tear
Folks they just love ya'
one day of the year
The rest of the time
they wouldn't come near ya'
They send you a card
full of love and best wishes
Then in the New Year
they run off with ya' misses
They're stuffin' their gobs
as fast as they can
Bugger them starving,
in Afghanistan
Then Santa Clause comes
with a full sack
A new doll for Betty
a bike for our Jack
'Eat, drink and be merry
tomorrow we die'
Forget about Jesus
'let sleeping dogs lie'
You think I'm a cynic
a miserable bastard
Come Christmas day
I just wanta get plastered.




Elaine Hamlet

Been out running and came home to find poets thread awash with brilliant verse. Mossy, you're ablaze this evening; some fantastic selections :)

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mossdog

Oh yes. Very, very well done triple H, that's so beautiful.

---

And she nearly got away with the line "massive and primative and rude" without anyone noticing!

Sonnet of the Moon
by Charles Best, 1608

Look how the pale Queen of the silent night
doth cause the ocean to attend upon her,
and he, as long as she is in sight,
with his full tide is ready here to honor;

But when the silver waggon of the Moon
is mounted up so high he cannot follow,
the sea calls home his crystal waves to morn,
and with low ebb doth manifest his sorrow.

So you that are sovereign of my heart
have all my joys attending on your will,
when you return, their tide my heart doth fill.
So as you come and as you depart,
joys ebb and flow within my tender heart.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

Holy moly gaucomole!....this is one of the best poems you have ever posted Mossy...and that is saying something!!!! where do you find them, brill!

oh still writing flaming xmas cards (aaaaaaaargh)

---

Glad you enjoyed it Freckle - it is superb isn't it. Found it on

www.blackcatpoems.com/index.html

Having taught little one myself many, many moons ago (sorry, couldn't resist), I can advise you to use pototo prints to reproduce your card message(s). :D:D