Today's poet

[Harry H Howgill]

Nice one XRunner. I'd not come across that one of her's before. We did have an edited version of this at our wedding mind you. I'm sure I put a fell running reference in there some where. This is the original...

Yes, I'll Marry You
Pam Ayres

Yes, I'll marry you, my dear,
And here's the reason why;
So I can push you out of bed
When the baby starts to cry,
And if we hear a knocking
And it's creepy and it's late,
I hand you the torch you see,
And you investigate.
Yes, I'll marry you, my dear,
You may not apprehend it,
But when the tumble-drier goes
It's you that has to mend it,
You have to face the neighbour
Should our labrador attack him,
And if a drunkard fondles me
It's you that has to whack him.
Yes, I'll marry you,
You're virile and you're lean,
My house is like a pigsty
You can help to keep it clean.
That sexy little dinner
Which you served by candlelight,
As I do chipolatas,
You can cook it every night!
It's you who has to work the drill
and put up curtain track,
And when I've got PMT it's you who gets the flak,
I do see great advantages,
But none of them for you,
And so before you see the light,
I do, I do, I do!

[Harry H Howgill]

That is really bizarre...a lady at my printmaking workshop said the very same thing yesterday. She said it is called Lady Hill and that the trees there are scots pines. I am going to go and take a look. This print is from about 8 years ago and inspired by various clumps of trees on iron age hill forts.

Give me a land of boughs in leaf,
A land of tree that stand;
Where trees are fallen there is grief
I love no leafless land...

A.E. Houseman

I love pleasant coincidences like that.

We used to go camping in Hawes when I was a kid. Then I didn't go back again for 20 years or so. But when I did I recognised the hill straight away, having not once thought about it for all that time.

I need to read more Houseman.

[Harry H Howgill]

been trawling....

and found this little one HHH, you are right there is a lot of sickly stuff out there!...this one is short and sweet tho..

birth is beginning,
Hope is its name-
A child gives meaning to the world.

Shalom Freedman

Been trawling eh? I knew you lived by the sea, but I didn't realise that the day job was as a Skipper!

You've got the knack of finding lovely poetry. Thanks for that one.

[Harry H Howgill]

isn't she just brilliant?.......... got to buy some at some point!!!!

no baby yet HHH? i'll look for some baby poems when i get a chance (no encylopedia just a browser) but its pretty full on round here at the minute what with halloween celebrations and my little girl's birthday party tomorrow (aaaaaaargh!)...and now i think i might be running in a race tomorrow (but that's real NICE!!!! and just what the doctor ordered after a day of tidying up/ironing/face painting and trick or treating!).....

love all the poems and haiku's that have been posted today, ain't this thread nice?

freckle

Babytwo not due for another couple of weeks but I'm getting excited prematurely; which is pretty much how it all started in the first place!

I'm just sitting down to enjoy the trick or treating leftovers. Unless they come soon, any more local kids will be sadly disappointed.

Good luck for both the race and party tomorrow.

HHH

[Harry H Howgill]

I'm more than happy sat here posting to myself. Feel free to bob in any time.

This is as near as I've got to finding a good kiddies poem. As I'm sat here with X-Factor on in the background, this seemed very apt.

The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set --
Or better still, just don't install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we've been,
We've watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone's place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they're hypnotised by it,
Until they're absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don't climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink --
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?
IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK -- HE ONLY SEES!
'All right!' you'll cry. 'All right!' you'll say,
'But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!'
We'll answer this by asking you,
'What used the darling ones to do?
'How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monsterwas invented?'
Have you forgotten? Don't you know?
We'll say it very loud and slow:
THEY ... USED ... TO ... READ! They'd READ and READ,
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching 'round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be?
Good gracious, it's Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There's Mr. Rate and Mr. Mole-
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks-
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They'll now begin to feel the need
Of having something to read.
And once they start -- oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They'll grow so keen
They'll wonder what they'd ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.

Roald Dahl </B>

[freckle]

Babytwo not due for another couple of weeks but I'm getting excited prematurely; which is pretty much how it all started in the first place!

I'm just sitting down to enjoy the trick or treating leftovers. Unless they come soon, any more local kids will be sadly disappointed.

Good luck for both the race and party tomorrow.

HHH

Ooooo you are funny!...just popping on again b4 i start wrapping the parcels for tomorrows passy the parcel, musical statues, musical bumps, pin the tail on the donkey competition etc etc....X Runner I liked that poem (altho I hope I don't suffer the same fate!)....see you guys laters

[Hanneke]

Just catching up with the threads offerings, fab! I now look forward to getting on the forum and seeing what new things you guys have posted.

Thanks for the link Hes, some lovely things there!

And now for a poet whom I think is most definitely on a par with Betjeman:

Being Boring

If you ask me 'What's new?', I have nothing to say
Except that the garden is growing.
I had a slight cold but it's better today.
I'm content with the way things are going.
Yes, he is the same as he usually is,
Still eating and sleeping and snoring.
I get on with my work. He gets on with his.
I know this is all very boring.

There was drama enough in my turbulent past:
Tears and passion-I've used up a tankful.
No news is good news, and long may it last,
If nothing much happens, I'm thankful.
A happier cabbage you never did see,
My vegetable spirits are soaring.
If you're after excitement, steer well clear of me.
I want to go on being boring.

I don't go to parties. Well, what are they for,
If you don't need to find a new lover?
You drink and you listen and drink a bit more
And you take the next day to recover.
Someone to stay home with was all my desire
And, now that I've found a safe mooring,
I've just one ambition in life: I aspire
To go on and on being boring.

-- Wendy Cope

[Hanneke]

And as we are into Haiku's, she's done a few of those too...

Strugnell's Haiku

(i)

The cherry blossom
In my neighbour's garden - Oh!
It looks really nice.

(ii)

The leaves have fallen
And the snow has fallen and
Soon my hair also...

(iii)

November evening:
The moon is up, rooks settle,
The pubs are open.

-- Wendy Cope

[stevefoster]

Like this:

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

[stevefoster]

Sometimes i run to get lost,
Lost i get and free i feel,
But something always leads me home?