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Thread: Today's poet

  1. #9551
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    Whitburn by the sea :-)
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    Re: Today's poet

    Quote Originally Posted by Einar View Post
    On a soft warm fleece
    In front of an open fire
    Your skin glows like gold
    That's lovely Einar...an open fire oooh I wish! Makes me feel all cosy reading that!

  2. #9552
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    Scotland - one of the wet and windy bits
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    Re: Today's poet

    You can't beat a real fire MG!

  3. #9553

    Re: Today's poet

    Quote Originally Posted by Derby Tup View Post
    Thursday tarmac trot
    tired throbbing tempo'd thighs
    thoughts turn towards tea
    Loving the avatar DT, that guy was a legend... 6 times married! wot stamina! and not a bad actor to boot! a sad loss!

    i am envous as i read your haiku, which is excellent! ...i still have a horrible knee injury and so am a mostly swimming as opposed to running sun spot at present! ...

    anyhoo I heard JB read this poem on the poetry archive recently...

    "Youth and Age on Beaulieu River, Hants"

    Early sun on Beaulieu water
    Lights the undersides of oaks,
    Clumps of leaves it floods and blanches,
    All transparent glow the branches
    Which the double sunlight soaks;
    To her craft on Beaulieu water
    Clemency the General's daughter
    Pulls across with even strokes.

    Schoolboy-sure she is this morning;
    Soon her sharpie's rigg'd and free.
    Cool beneath a garden awning
    Mrs. Fairclough, sipping tea
    And raising large long-distance glasses
    As the little sharpie passes,
    Sighs our sailor girl to see:
    Tulip figure, so appealing,
    Oval face, so serious-eyed,
    Tree-roots pass'd and muddy beaches.

    On to huge and lake-like reaches,
    Soft and sun-warm, see her glide -
    Slacks the slim young limbs revealing,
    Sun-brown arm the tiller feeling -
    With the wind and with the tide.
    Evening light will bring the water,
    Day-long sun will burst the bud,
    Clemency, the General's daughter,
    Will return upon the flood.
    But the older woman only
    Knows the ebb-tide leaves her lonely
    With the shining fields of mud.


    I really recommend listening to JB tell the stoy behind the poem and read it here...amazing voice...
    http://www.poetryarchive.org/poetrya...do?poemId=1538

    ps i would so love to be a tulip...alas I am an apple!
    Last edited by freckle; 30-09-2010 at 10:53 PM.

  4. #9554
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    Location
    North Yorkshire
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    Re: Today's poet

    Thanks for this Freckle, I love John Betjeman and this is a lovely one. It has thoroughly cheered my evening. I love hearing him read too. I have a great cd wih his poems set to music called 'Banana Blush'.x

    Quote Originally Posted by freckle View Post
    Loving the avatar DT, that guy was a legend... 6 times married! wot stamina! and not a bad actor to boot! a sad loss!

    i am envous as i read your haiku, which is excellent! ...i still have a horrible knee injury and so am a mostly swimming as opposed to running sun spot at present! ...

    anyhoo I heard JB read this poem on the poetry archive recently...

    "Youth and Age on Beaulieu River, Hants"

    Early sun on Beaulieu water
    Lights the undersides of oaks,
    Clumps of leaves it floods and blanches,
    All transparent glow the branches
    Which the double sunlight soaks;
    To her craft on Beaulieu water
    Clemency the General's daughter
    Pulls across with even strokes.

    Schoolboy-sure she is this morning;
    Soon her sharpie's rigg'd and free.
    Cool beneath a garden awning
    Mrs. Fairclough, sipping tea
    And raising large long-distance glasses
    As the little sharpie passes,
    Sighs our sailor girl to see:
    Tulip figure, so appealing,
    Oval face, so serious-eyed,
    Tree-roots pass'd and muddy beaches.

    On to huge and lake-like reaches,
    Soft and sun-warm, see her glide -
    Slacks the slim young limbs revealing,
    Sun-brown arm the tiller feeling -
    With the wind and with the tide.
    Evening light will bring the water,
    Day-long sun will burst the bud,
    Clemency, the General's daughter,
    Will return upon the flood.
    But the older woman only
    Knows the ebb-tide leaves her lonely
    With the shining fields of mud.


    I really recommend listening to JB tell the stoy behind the poem and read it here...amazing voice...
    http://www.poetryarchive.org/poetrya...do?poemId=1538

    ps i would so love to be a tulip...alas I am an apple!

  5. #9555

    Re: Today's poet

    Quote Originally Posted by Hes View Post
    Thanks for this Freckle, I love John Betjeman and this is a lovely one. It has thoroughly cheered my evening. I love hearing him read too. I have a great cd wih his poems set to music called 'Banana Blush'.x
    Glad you enjoyed it sweetheart and hoping you are well xxx

  6. #9556
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    Re: Today's poet

    Sorry to hear about your poorly knee freckle. Hope you're on the mend soon

    October

    O hushed October morning mild,
    Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
    Tomorrow's wind, if it be wild,
    Should waste them all.
    The crows above the forest call;
    Tomorrow they may form and go.
    O hushed October morning mild,
    Begin the hours of this day slow.
    Make the day seem to us less brief.
    Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
    Beguile us in the way you know.
    Release one leaf at break of day;
    At noon release another leaf;
    One from our trees, one far away.
    Retard the sun with gentle mist;
    Enchant the land with amethyst.
    Slow, slow!
    For the grapes' sake, if the were all,
    Whose elaves already are burnt with frost,
    Whose clustered fruit must else be lost--
    For the grapes' sake along the all

    Robert Frost

  7. #9557
    Master
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    Settle
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    6,580

    Re: Today's poet

    WOMAN'S POEM

    Before I lay me down to sleep,
    I pray for a man, who's not a creep,
    One who's handsome, smart and strong.
    One who loves to listen long,
    One who thinks before he speaks,
    One who'll call, not wait for weeks.
    I pray he's gainfully employed,
    When I spend his cash, won't be annoyed.
    Pulls out my chair and opens my door,
    Massages my back and begs to do more.
    Oh! Send me a man, who'll make love to my mind,
    Knows what to answer to "how big is my behind?"
    I pray that this man will love me to no end,
    And always be my very best friend.

    MAN'S POEM

    I pray for a deaf-mute nymphomaniac with huge boobs Who owns a liquor store and a golf course. This doesn't rhyme and I don't give a crap.


    Shamefully stolen by me from the internet. By the way, as a man I have to say that I no interest in liquor stores or frigging golf...

  8. #9558
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    Aug 2009
    Location
    North Yorkshire
    Posts
    3,970

    Re: Today's poet

    Ha ha...

    I pray for a man…
    No hold on, I’m an atheist…

    I wish for a man who’s not mad,
    I wish for a man who’s not bad
    I’d like to meet a guy
    Without a roving eye
    And one who won’t leave me so sad

    I wish for a man who will talk
    Who’d enjoy a long rambling walk
    It would be much funner
    If he was a keen runner
    And women he would never stalk

    A bloke that likes a good laugh
    Who’s glass is near full at the half
    Who treats me with care
    Looks good when he’s bare
    And wants me to share his hot bath.


    Then again…you can never underestimate the company of a nice dog!

    Quote Originally Posted by Stolly View Post
    WOMAN'S POEM

    Before I lay me down to sleep,
    I pray for a man, who's not a creep,
    One who's handsome, smart and strong.
    One who loves to listen long,
    One who thinks before he speaks,
    One who'll call, not wait for weeks.
    I pray he's gainfully employed,
    When I spend his cash, won't be annoyed.
    Pulls out my chair and opens my door,
    Massages my back and begs to do more.
    Oh! Send me a man, who'll make love to my mind,
    Knows what to answer to "how big is my behind?"
    I pray that this man will love me to no end,
    And always be my very best friend.

    MAN'S POEM

    I pray for a deaf-mute nymphomaniac with huge boobs Who owns a liquor store and a golf course. This doesn't rhyme and I don't give a crap.


    Shamefully stolen by me from the internet. By the way, as a man I have to say that I no interest in liquor stores or frigging golf...

  9. #9559
    Master
    Join Date
    Apr 2008
    Posts
    6,158

    Re: Today's poet

    Eden Rock

    They are waiting for me somewhere beyond Eden Rock:
    My father, twenty-five, in the same suit
    Of Genuine Irish Tweed, his terrier Jack
    Still two years old and trembling at his feet.

    My mother, twenty-three, in a sprigged dress
    Drawn at the waist, ribbon in her straw hat,
    Has spread the stiff white cloth over the grass.
    Her hair, the colour of wheat, takes on the light.

    She pours tea from a Thermos, the milk straight
    From an old H.P. sauce-bottle, a screw
    Of paper for a cork; slowly sets out
    The same three plates, the tin cups painted blue.

    The sky whitens as if lit by three suns.
    My mother shades her eyes and looks my way
    Over the drifted stream. My father spins
    A stone along the water. Leisurely,

    They beckon to me from the other bank.
    I hear them call, "See where the stream-path is!
    Crossing is not as hard as you might think."
    I had not thought that it would be like this.

    Charles Causley

  10. #9560

    Re: Today's poet

    Quote Originally Posted by Alf View Post
    Eden Rock

    They are waiting for me somewhere beyond Eden Rock:
    My father, twenty-five, in the same suit
    Of Genuine Irish Tweed, his terrier Jack
    Still two years old and trembling at his feet.

    My mother, twenty-three, in a sprigged dress
    Drawn at the waist, ribbon in her straw hat,
    Has spread the stiff white cloth over the grass.
    Her hair, the colour of wheat, takes on the light.

    She pours tea from a Thermos, the milk straight
    From an old H.P. sauce-bottle, a screw
    Of paper for a cork; slowly sets out
    The same three plates, the tin cups painted blue.

    The sky whitens as if lit by three suns.
    My mother shades her eyes and looks my way
    Over the drifted stream. My father spins
    A stone along the water. Leisurely,

    They beckon to me from the other bank.
    I hear them call, "See where the stream-path is!
    Crossing is not as hard as you might think."
    I had not thought that it would be like this.

    Charles Causley
    this is very enigmatic and lovely Alf...thank you for posting...i really like your new signature too :-)

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