Damn rightOriginally Posted by Harry H Howgill
Damn right
Poacher turned game-keeper
Heavy rain on glass
incessant pitter patter
dripping sounds resound
Poacher turned game-keeper
[QUOTE=Mossdog;268604]Your Attention Please!
I have entitled tonight's Haiku:
On Completing Hill Reps From Red Groves to Harberry Triangulation Point While Wearing Sodden (not sodding) Inov8s
Thank you. Applause will not be necessary as my audiences are often left speechless and in awe.
This post tickled me! thank you Moss dog, gosh the haiku on here just get better and better, loved yours this morning DT and HHH your choice of poem was lovely...merry liked the choice of lyrics....
well on the mini freckle front a good birthday was had by my little carol vorderman (she is into maths unlike her innumerate parents!) but the amount of birthday cake consumed and general mania levels in the house has meant that mini freckle 1 and 2 are still not quite asleep/bashing each other/generally bursting my eardrums and giving me a heedache...mummy needs something soothing...so any suggestions would be gratefully received....
and now an excerpt from a poem by Charlotte Ansell...
Skin
Your skin is inviting
deep and pure
velvet to my touch.
I feel transparent
next to you
as each flush
of emotion stains my face.
your softness smooth as shells
warm like the earth
beneath the sun.
your smell
comforting, familiar, full
of memories
restoring to my senses
skin glowing next to mine
reflecting back the light you shine as i breathe you in....
laters
Nice one Freckle...that is lovely.
Sounds like it is time for you to crack open a bottle of wine and put your feet up.
Poetry's like a soothing balm
Reading, composing, keeping me calm.
Soaking in those classic lines
Remembering the best of times.
Hes-I am about to take your advice!
HHH-your work justs get better and better...mini freckle sleep watch-we have progress they are officially in the land of nod now!
November's Guest
My Sorrow, when she's here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.
Her pleasure will not let me stay.
She talks and I am fain to list:
She's glad the birds are gone away,
She's glad her simple worsted grey
Is silver now with clinging mist.
The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
And vexes me for reason why.
Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise
Robert Frost
Good morning all...wishing you all a calm and productive day....
Calm is nature as a wheel
Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.
The kine are couched upon the dewy grass;
The horse alone, seen dimly as I pass,
Is cropping audibly his later meal:
Dark is the ground; a slumber seems to steal
O'er vale, and mountain, and the starless sky.
Now, in this blank of things, a harmony,
Home-felt, and home-created, comes to heal
That grief for which the senses still supply
Fresh food; for only then, when memory
Is hushed, am I at rest. My Friends! restrain
Those busy cares that would allay my pain;
Oh! leave me to myself, nor let me feel
The officious touch that makes me droop again.
William Wordsworth
Love the Frost freckle
brighter but colder
naked trees line swollen Wharfe
sooty rooks perch there
Poacher turned game-keeper
Cheers Freckle - a calming potion.
And DT - I am envying your journey. Here's mine.
Headed North to work
Sun cold lights on Cheviot
A mischevious tease
Simonside ridge clear
Offers fine running today
But not for me. Sigh.
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