Never time to make a clever rhyme.

Love Song of Culloden

We fought side by side at Culloden,
Defending our homeland so fair,
With the ranks of the enemy waiting
I suddenly noticed her there.

I gazed at a tangle-haired lassie
And after she'd looked back a while,
In spite of the onslaught approaching
We shared the brief joy of a smile.

A hesitant sun unveiled further
The beauty who made my heart dance;
Her eyes were as blue as a sapphire,
Her long golden hair lit by chance.

She carried some meagre provisions
For us where the banners unfurl,
In the desperate time before bloodshed
She seemed an untouchable pearl.

Then the order was given to muster;
On hearing the great battle cry
I joined in the charge for our freedom,
Preparing to do or to die.

And after that English shot hit me,
In bandages, weak and festooned,
The girl I'd seen earlier gently
Nursed my incurable wound.

O lassie, you knelt to soothe me on
The last of my Jacobite trips
And the final few words I heard ever
Came out of your whispering lips.

Though meadows of thyme are enchanted
And heavenly highlands show grace
I'll never forget the tears you cried,
Aye lassie, they fell on my face.


©

I wondered if someone would send in a poem about the atrocity in Paris. I think these two pieces sum up what most of us are feeling. Thanks Izzy and Flower.

Such hideous attacks and such a waste of life

Ta Elyan

Indeed. My anxiety is through the roof and has been for the last day or so, so I can only imagine what its like for those living in the city and country affected. I think it helped that I managed to write something, writing can definitely be therapeutic at times. I felt like I had another poem I ought to write for a while, its just a shame it ended up being on such a grim subject.

Your most welcome Musty.

Mavis's Third Leg

Hello Jean, heard the latest?
Sit down and pour a drink,
Prepare to hear the greatest,
I don't know what you'll think.

When I bumped into Mavis
I got an awful shock
And so did Mrs Davis,
Who couldn't quite take stock.

While living as a hermit,
Believe me Jean, I beg -
I really must confirm it,
She grew another leg!

I don't think I could ever
Get used to having three,
I just said 'Well I never',
Then Mavis said to me:

'A trio can be handy,
I'm rather chuffed with it,
Although it's made me bandy
And now my tights don't fit.'

Her third leg is a riddle,
It's on the right-hand side,
Her right one's in the middle,
The left one sticks out wide.

Poor Ken is discontented,
His love-life's gone astray,
Each time that she's consented
Three thighs get in the way.

She's sold her bike already,
While it kept Mavis trim,
It's hard to cycle steady
When you've an extra limb.

Her fame will be so great now,
She'll top Sting and Nick Clegg,
Well Jean, you're up to date now
On Mavis's third leg.


©

I couldn't agree more Izzy - you take care

I posted the Mavis poem to lighten the mood a bit. The thread's gone rather quiet of late

Forest

It's good to see the world anew
Through webs of fragile morning dew,
My forest is a perfect jewel,
A thread from some exotic spool,
Where Mother Nature never slept
These ageing roots and branches crept;
An army of unbending trees
That grew over the centuries.

If Proserpine had seen this place
It would have lit her pretty face,
For here the oak is glad to reach
Alliances with pine and beech,
Do not avoid the shaded ways,
Explore instead a faded maze
Where woodlands that refuse to die
Forever make the Green Man sigh.

Dark mushrooms by a winding stream
Add to the aura of a dream,
Go deeper still and you will find
A path that leaves the world behind,
As light begins to disappear
No sound disturbs the atmosphere;
The forest I adore so much
Is free of man's destructive touch.


©

Evokes the feelings I have when walking in the woods.....

Two soldiers at the dock

A score of ships lie o’er the way
With lanterns at their stern
Four bells ring out across the bay
To signal hours that turn

A North Sea wind strokes at the shoals
Then causes us to sigh
A gentle breeze to touch our souls
And sting our tired eyes

This quiet night brings out the mope
And a heavyhearted brood
No words could offer faith or hope
To lift our cheerless mood

The fight has ceased and the peace is won
So it’s back to living plain
Our work for old King George is done,
In Portugal, France and Spain

From Porto and the Douro bridge
To the fields of Waterloo
We’ve killed at every fort and ridge
And managed to come through

Now we wait, two friends of many years
With nowt but woe and dread
Not strange to twist our guts with fear
And half wish we were dead

For the peace is not a soldier’s life,
It offers nothing more
Than a job, a house and a boring wife
When we live for blood and war

A hug can be the most wonderful thing,
Two arms wrapped around you like a Mother's wing,
But we're so selfish when we are blue,
Doesn't a hug deserve deserve a hug too?

Thank you.

Ta Flower

Lovely poem NightFox

A thoroughly enjoyable ode, describing the life of a world-weary soldier. I know I've said it before, but your military poetry is really evocative and always absorbing Elyan. Please keep 'em coming

The Labyrinth

I wandered through a labyrinth,
I stumbled lost and blind,
I entered all its chambers
To see what I could find.

One gleamed with pale green lanterns,
Deep envy I sensed there,
I left it far behind me
To seek abodes more fair.

In time I found another
Where burned a warming fire,
The aura was enticing,
A place of sweet desire.

And some rooms rang with laughter
And some rooms concealed fears
And each held something different,
Some happiness, some tears.

You ask what is this labyrinth
Where chambered tunnels wind?
The answer is quite simple:
The labyrinth is my mind.


©

Apologies for posting another oldie I haven't written a new poem for ages, not since I finished work on the book, but I am piecing together a fresh one. On the publishing front, there's been a delay; my technical helper can't see me until January. Hopefully it'll be released (at last) then

Keep them coming Musty

Hope all's well. Thanks for keeping us posted about the book ..looking forward to seeing Archibald in there

The poems aren't flowing around the thread but I'll write an ode for Christmas !

Christmas for the Sky


The Christmas Eve was sparkle, the stars all polished bright

New moon was dressed in tinsel , planets baubles for the night

Full year celestials waiting, to see Santa in the sky

As he flew among their playground with presents piled up high


Then midnight was upon them, the moon and stars kept still

They strained their ears to listen, for sleigh bells gentle trill

The North Star firstly spotted, a glowing nose of red

Twas Rudolf leading onward now children were in bed.


Ho Ho came Santa’s greeting as the laughing stars all waved

‘We’ve missed you Father Christmas, we’ve been so well behaved’

As Santa paused his journey he smiled at all the heavens

And reached into his sack of gifts then each constellation beckons


‘Here take this treat with thank you, from all the girls and boys’

‘For shining bright here nightly, I give you all these toys’

With glee the wrap was opened, all lit with moon beam rays

For Santa and his friends the elves had made them tiny sleighs


So when you stop and notice, you’ll see a shooting star

Remember it’s just playing on its sledge, just like you are.

A truly beautiful Xmas ode BB I loved the imagery of stars, tinsel and sleighs

Archibald's place in literature has been booked

Golden Slumbers by Thomas Dekker 1572 - 1632

Golden slumbers kiss your eyes,
Smiles awake you when you rise.
Sleep pretty wantons, do not cry,
And I will sing a lullaby;
Rock them, rock them, lullaby.

Care is heavy, therefore sleep you;
You are care, and care must keep you.
Sleep pretty wantons, do not cry,
And I will sing a lullaby;
Rock them, rock them, lullaby.

Thanks musty.

Life after Death

It’s funny how we just cope,
When once we were bereft of hope,
And tumbled down a painful slope,
Trying hard to find a way

It’s funny how life goes on,
So shortly after they have gone,
Just nothing where their star once shone
To brighten up our days

It’s funny how you just learn,
To handle things without to yearn,
The love that never will return,
For it has gone away

An achingly sad but beautiful poem none the less Thanks for this Elyan

Sorry for my long absence over Xmas - anyway I hope everyone had a great time I'll be back very early in the new year. The thread's been quiet of late but it's always fluctuated a bit

HAPPY NEW YEAR ALL

Blink and you'll miss it,
that which is now,
the ever present,
ever awake, open and filled with possibilities,
here and now,
lift your eyelids,
and see
for the first time.

Look up high,
what first catches your eye?
the long, long expanse of sky,
cloud blankets,
birds gently flowing across;
taking in that which we live in,
all around us,
is a pleasure to be savoured,
in its simplicity.

Not all skylines are beautiful,
that much I concede.
Nor do all days, or indeed time, feel filled
with potential, ready for the grab,
yet the truth is - every moment,
is a moment still,
every minute; second,
ticking of a clock,
acts as a constant reminder;
a never fading reminder,
of the moment that we live in.

What you do in and with that moment,
is entirely up to you.

Happy New Year Musty et al.