The Moon. (the moon is a traditional subject for poetry.)
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A winter's day, so far away,
On a breeze it came, for me to play.
The moon was high
And looked a bit like a mango.
'Must be the Mango In The Moon', mused the middle terrapin, as he
Slopes back to the pond.
'Oh!' he sighed
And 'Oh!' he cried -
For Moon had gone and disappeared
And everything looked dark and weird
And for his life he suddenly feared
But none there was to save him,
But a tiny little elf, who
Made a moat to put him in
And saved the tiny terrapin.
The end.
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12 comments:
what a bloody good poem, i commend u howard...or was it mark in disguise? we shall never know
thankyou jammy. it was of course a mixture, like all - or most - things in life. except the single variety or is it origin chocolate that's been creeping into our shops where the dairy milk used to be. (sigh.)
we would encourage contributors to use the blog to put out any old poems you like, or if you're a beginner maybe just rearrange the words of an already done poem for now. often these are actually better.
just wanted to say i found another verse to that james blunt terrapin type song recently.
My shell is shiny,
My Tail is pure,
I met a terrapin, called roger moore.
He smiled at me in a fish pond,
he was in a load of sand.
But i won't lose no sleep on that,
cos i've got no hand.
Yes he caught my fin,
as i jumped right in,
he could see from my face that i'd been, drinking gin.
but i dont think i'll drink that no more,
cos it leaves me lying wasted cold on the floor.
more to come as i find it :)
another work in progress...
When the sun goes down,and leaves a frown
upon the hills and trees of this old town.
We spare a some time to drink some wine. watching depths of every sign.
Upon this hill and below this tree,
i shall sit and ponder on thee.
the light of happiness that fades to grey,
but once again I can but pray.
and make this work one perfect day.
that poem is just inspirational mark and howard I felt your pain
and hoorah for the the little elf - did HE make the shoes?
yes he did, Swaffette.
Jammy, you seem to have a poetic soul. Where did you get it? Did it cost a lot? Or was it bartered for eg knife-sharp legs?
James Blunt (do you mean THE James Blunt?) is most impressive in that extra verse - I hope you find more and more and more of it. What a great song!
The idea of the Sun leaving 'a frown upon the hills and trees', however,has caused me a fair amount of worry and fevered, nightmarish visualising. Strong image. Might it be possible to balance it with a very pleasant image, so that I don't tip over the edge into complete poetic-morbid instability? (like my friend Ced.)
poetic soul....hmm
i think therefore i am.
i was given this soul naturally and its within all of us. we need to simply tune into our inner most thoughts. kinda like finding radio 1 on the car radio. its there. its just in different places when ur in a different part of the country.
I have been trying to get radio 1, as you suggest, on the radio in the kitchen (Ced broke all our other radios) but there is a lot of interference. Do you think we will ever to be able to tune into our innermost thoughts with all that going on? I am worried we won't.
Also, how do the chaps at Radio 1 know our innermost thoughts? Isn't that a bit creepy?
radio 1 dj's are connected to the world wide web as well as being psychic which is a prerequisite of being a dj/presenter. i hope ur radio gets fixed soon so u can hear ur own thoughts.
thank you jammy (hope nothing to do with JAMMING RADIO WAVES) that is a kind thought you passed on to me there, almost psychically, although i did read it on the blog.
mark & howard want poems so here you are:
My name is bob
I have a job
I have some shoes
I sometimes lose
It makes me laugh and makes you creap
behind the sofa
and get no sleep
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