The Poem thread

[marval]

I must go down to the sea again
Spike Milligan


I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky;
I left my shoes and socks there - I wonder if they're dry?

[marval]

RECIPE FOR A HAPPY NEW YEAR


Take twelve whole months.
Clean them thoroughly of all bitterness,
hate, and jealousy.
Make them just as fresh and clean as possible.

Now cut each month into twenty-eight, thirty, or
thirty-one different parts,
but don't make up the whole batch at once.
Prepare it one day at a time out of these ingredients.

Mix well into each day one part of faith,
one part of patience, one part of courage,
and one part of work.
Add to each day one part of hope,
faithfulness, generosity, and kindness.
Blend with one part prayer, one part meditation,
and one good deed.
Season the whole with a dash of good spirits,
a sprinkle of fun, a pinch of play,
and a cupfull of good humor.

Pour all of this into a vessel of love.
Cook thouroughly over radient joy,
garnish with a smile,
and serve with quietness, unselfishness,
and cheerfulness.
You're bound to have a happy new year.


Happy new year everyone


Margaret

[Contratrombone64]

Half a pound of tuppenny rice,
Half a pound of treacle,
That's the way the money goes,

anyone care to furnish the last line?

[marval]

Pop goes the weasel (too much turkey and stuffing)


Margaret

[Contratrombone64]

And, Margaret, why is it called "pop goes the weasel"?

[marval]

To be honest David I don't know, I remeber singing it as a child but that is all.
I found these about it, but I am sure you already know.

http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_does_...he_Weasel_mean

http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/p...he-weasel.html


Margaret

[marval]

Just because it is Summer here in the UK.


from A Child’s Garden of Verses by Robert Louis Stevenson

Summer Sun


Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven with repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.

Though closer still the blinds we pull
To keep the shady parlour cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two
To slip his golden fingers through.

The dusty attic spider-clad
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;
And through the broken edge of tiles
Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.

Meantime his golden face around
He bares to all the garden ground,
And sheds a warm and glittering look
Among the ivy’s inmost nook.

Above the hills, along the blue,
Round the bright air with footing true,
To please the child, to paint the rose,
The gardener of the World, he goes.

[teddy]

Lovely. And now ......... more Milligan

The boy stood on the burning deck
his kneecaps turning brown
it really was his own fault
for pulling his trousers down.

teddy

[teddy]

And, Margaret, why is it called "pop goes the weasel"?

This rhyme is about using the pawn shop at the end of the week when the money had run out. I will look up and list it all.

teddy

[marval]

This rhyme is about using the pawn shop at the end of the week when the money had run out. I will look up and list it all.

teddy

Ah thank you teddy, I didn't know that. I like Milligan's poems.


Margaret

[Contratrombone64]

Oh fair dawn that heralds grey
Your sodden waste makes me bleak

Once sure footing masquerades as imp
As water's folly's brat snatches at our feet

The western sky is calming, no?
This is merely a tease.

(just a little poem I made up about our seemingly endless rain)

[teddy]

Lovely CT. It certainly has feeling. Just what I needed to cheer me up this morning

teddy

[teddy]

Have you read any of Spikes books Margaret, particularly concerning his experiences during the war? I grew up listening to the Goon Show which I did and still do love.
I will try and find some more snippets of his poetry

teddy

[marval]

A good poem CT, it captures the rain very well.

I have not read his books teddy, only the poem ones. I must try to find them, I think they would interesting.


Margaret

[Contratrombone64]

Thank you Margaret and teddy, it was totally "out of left field" as I am no poet. Now, fortunately, it's Saturday morning and the skys are blue, thank goodness. My partner and I just went and had breakfast at the Rocks markets, old part of Sydney sort of under the harbour bridge-ish.