Post two, the verses below are not penned by the greats, Shelly, Keats etc, but by the “person” in the street (well we must be P.C).
I thought they were interesting, and as it’s my blog that is what you will get, maybe, just maybe I will acquiesce and put up some so called “proper” literature, and then again maybe not.
I will eventually get round to books, and things, but all in good time.
Anyway, the first poem is:
Once I'm in my bubble bath
I thought they were interesting, and as it’s my blog that is what you will get, maybe, just maybe I will acquiesce and put up some so called “proper” literature, and then again maybe not.
I will eventually get round to books, and things, but all in good time.
Anyway, the first poem is:
Once I'm in my bubble bath
Once I'm in my bubble bathI like to stir up more.
Half the suds go in my eyes
And half go on the floor.
The fun is in the bubbles 'cause
They giggle on my skin,
And when I stick them on my face
They dangle from my chin.
And when I splash them hard enough
They pop and disappear,
And then my bath time's over
'causeI've made the water clear.
Memories of childhood, or second childhood?
Next up is:
The perfect man
Never cruel or mean
He has a beautiful smile
And keeps his face so clean.
The perfect man likes children
And will raise them by your side
He will be a good father
As well as a good husband to his bride.
The perfect man loves cooking
Cleaning and vacuuming too
He'll do anything in his power
To convey his feelings of love for you.
Win a Mustang GT Convertible or $50,000!
The perfect man is sweet
Writing poetry from your name
He's a best friend to your mother
And kisses away your pain.
He has never made you cry
Or hurt you In any way
Oh, screw this stupid poem
The perfect man is gay
Issues to be addressed there.
Advice in Abundance
Unsolicited advice free and abundant:
So much of it there it’s often redundant.
When I was a lad and easily impressed:
I listened and nodded at the experts' behest.
Opinions they flaunted on a scale universal:
Expounding at length without forethought or rehearsal.
With style and emotion, each made a case:
Of factual content there was rarely a trace.
Middle age found me as the consummate cynic:
Quick to retort and given to mimic.
With the passage of time I relaxed my position:
Improvised wisdom doesn't require a logician.
In the twilight of life there is time for a chat:
I now render advice at the drop of a hat.
Sage advice for bloggers.
And to finish up a limerick or two by Edward Lear (OK so I gave in).
There was an Old Man in a tree,
Who was horribly bored by a Bee;
When they said, 'Does it buzz?
'He replied, 'Yes, it does!'
'It's a regular brute of a Bee!'
There was a Young Person of Crete,
Whose toilette was far from complete;
She dressed in a sack,
Spickle-speckled with black,
That ombliferous person of Crete
And one from my past:
There was a young lady from Ealing
Who had a peculiar feeling
So she lay...........
Well maybe not.
Angus
hahah, the perfect man...you had me there... :)
ReplyDeleteliked the bubble bath one.
thought you might like this one...I won't be putting this lovely literature on my blog... ;D
the Farmer song
"There was an old farmer who lived by a rock,
He sat in the meadow a waving his
fists at some boys who were down by the crik(sp)
their feet in the water, their hands on their...
marbles and playthings and in days of yore
there came a young lady who looked like a...
lovely young maiden, she sat on the grass
she lifted her skirts and showed us her...
ruffles and laces and a neat little tuck
she told us she was learning a new way to...
raise up her children and teach them to knit
while the boys in the barnyard were shoveling...
straw from the stables and they worked day and night
If you think this is vulgar then bless you your right"
-it's sung by a local band named the Wicked Tinkers :)
Thanks HGF,I think you just have:)
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