Brachiosaurus

Searchers unearthed something vast,
So big it blew their minds,
Something came out of the past
To beat all fossil finds.

Fieldwork is empirical
And digging is no doddle
But it's a bloody miracle
That fifty tons could waddle.

This gentle monster slow and deft,
This looming sauropod,
At eighty-two feet long it left
Deep footprints where it trod.

What a giant to behold,
No path or trail was quiet,
It shook the landscape as it strolled
But had a veggie diet.

Head extended to the leaf,
A neck to overawe us,
Looking at the world beneath
Itself, Brachiosaurus.


©

A great positive poem Sandy Those two lines reminded me of John Lennon's 'I heard the news today oh boy' from A Day In The Life

Good

The weather has been cold recently, always good to wear a hat to keep warm, even silly hats that don't always stay in place, when I say that, I talk from experience.

Thanks.

Fab poem, Musty. Doddle and waddle are great rhyming words.

Where are you going to?
Off doddling and away waddling

Ta Sandy

I've been doddling round London - I'm typing this on my brother's computer here too

Sorry I've not been around much I'll be back home tomorrow, armed with a print-out of the book

Mine's blown off a few times as well

Hi Musty

You should post this in the Palaeontology Thread, I'm sure Keyser would love it !

How is the new book coming along ?

Hope you had a good time in London. Did you visit some interesting places while you were there?

There has been a little wind around, looks quite funny as the wind blows my scarf about, flapping in the wind like Rupert the bear.

Hiya BB and thanks, I shall do

The book's at the 'manuscript' phase, ie a big wad of printed sheets. It's easier to spot errors and make final improvements that way; staying on a pc too long affects my eyes. After the last proof-read I'm hoping for a late spring/early summer release

Nope, I couldn't afford it this time Sandy - I usually check out the Tate Gallery, which has a marvellous collection of Pre-Raphaelite paintings

I love Rupert the Bear

Faerie Sighting

At midnight with the woods at rest
And frost upon each leaf,
I watched a scene unfold to test
The borders of belief.

Some faeries floated like a kite
And made the branches gleam,
The pearly dew-drop silver light
They always seem to beam.

I heard them whisper 'Here's the place
Where Lady Moonlight goes',
Then she appeared in silk and lace,
As pretty as a rose.

They flew into her open hand,
A happy little throng,
They danced a jig of gladness and
Began to sing a song.

I knew not what the lyrics meant
But sensed somehow inside
A tale of love was being sent,
For Lady Moonlight sighed.

A memory that never ends
Or like a daydream fades;
The maiden and her tiny friends
Who sang their serenades.


©

Two very different poems:


Hollow

Crushed red velvet heart,
body of material.
No substance,
no starch to stiffen,
no purpose,
no reason.
Torn at the seams,
red threads hanging loose,
unravelled.
Head stuffing,
body stuffing,
crushed to dust,
wind-blown away.
Body folded,
airless,
lifeless,
collapsed.
Too empty of life,
a shadow of death.



Five Fat Sausages

A hissing sizzling splutters through the air,
Five fat sausages frying in a pan.

Fat flying all around
Making such a super sound
Sending up that hot fried smell
Making my nostrils swell
Pink skin burning brown
Time to turn the cooker down
Lift the pan
Get the plate
Feeling hungry
I can’t wait
Knife and fork
Cut first slice
It will taste
More than nice
Lovely taste
Lips-a-lick
Here I go
Eating quick
5
4
3-2-1

GONE!

I've never been to the Tate Britain, been to the Tate Modern a few times. Looked at some of Millais paintings online recently.

Echo From

There was a time
a long while ago
that I maybe
had told you so
my echo from
the past with words
to make you grow
as someone who
cares for those
may also need
that much filled
soothing laugh

LSP.

You can soar with golden eagles in your mind.
Then fold your wings and dive until you find
what brings you so alive.
Your nature will survive.
You are the very essence of mankind.

You can ride the greatest waves ever seen.
Then drink a whole ocean to the queen.
In your imagination
you're god of your creation
and master of all that you mean.

So dream on sweet baby in the rough.
Don't ever say you've had enough.
Get out of the cloister
and the world is your oyster.
You little sugar puff.

Apologies to all for my long absence Intense work on t'book is continuing

I'll try to comment on each great new ode in my remaining library time here

I do love your poems Sandy, they have a unique essence

Echo From is right up there too. Bells Tubular is my 'Sandy poem' and it's made the final publishing cut

The two sides of Scottie - Hollow is disturbing, almost Hitchcockian in its delivery. Five Fat Sausages placed me in a kitchen. Even as a vegetarian I enjoyed this, it played out so vividly in my mind. I could almost smell the bangers and hear the sizzling

Great stuff Scottie

This has to be my favourite of all your many poems John. So positive and uplifting; I like how the tone changes slightly near the end too. This really could be a rock song, it had that feel to me. Is LSP related to LSD by the way?

Superb

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.


©

Thanks for that Musty. I didn't know what to call it and didn't want to use the obvious rhyme (tough) for the last verse. So it became Little Sugar Puff. Not related to lysergic acid diethylamide or limited slip differential though.

Great to see this thread still alive and well. It's getting on for eight years old!!

Tomorrow comes love

Roses are red
violets are blue
tomorrow comes love
with a cuddle or two.

A poem for Valentines Day.

Love

Love has passed
back and forth
held for such a
moment precious
passed on amongst
and back again
let's continue such
as I pass love your way
catch love as love falls
and stays a while
as a moment does.