“Shall we go Parranda, Miranda?”

“Shall we go Parranda, Miranda?”

“Shall we go Parranda, Miranda?”

asked Prospero, with a wry smile.

“Father, you are all a lather,

if you think we can spend a while

in doing so. The answer, it is, ‘No!’ “

Looe 3007

In a thousand years from now

will things be just the same,

when they’ve changed so much in a hundred?

And, would we be able to claim

knowledge of a place

where we thundered in youth

and withered in age,

when the world spins ever quicker,

just to reach a final stage?

We walk these streets

as those before,

and look out to sea

from that same shore;

but, tomorrow is another day,

what happens then…

well, who can say?

A Thousand Years

I’ve watched you for a thousand years,

I’ll watch a thousand more,

I am the one who helps your boat

reach safely to the shore.

For when you are in peril

a-sailing on the sea;

you might needs pray to someone

and that someone might be me.

The Faux Toe Shop

I woke up this morning

(da dada da da!)

and found that I only had nine toes!

Where, is it,

when a man is missing a toe,

where is it

that he goes?

Nobody knows.

So, for a toe,

I suggest

that there should be

a faux toe shop

where they can add on

the missing toe –

the one that has gone.

And, if, subsequently,

one happens to find

the missing digit,

you’ll have a spare

in hand (so to speak)

and won’t have to pay

the faux toe shop

a visit.

Nadelik Lowen Haiku

“Nadelik Lowen!”

I called to all the people.

“Kynnyav yw!” they cried.

An Autumnal Haiku (and one that isn’t).


The leaves are falling


everywhere around me,


so, ‘Merry Christmas!’

——

or, not an Autumnal Haiku (7,5,5)


Everywhere around me

leaves are falling,

so, ‘Merry Christmas!’

Job Interview – A further instalment in the Adlestrop Sequence.

See here for my original Adlestrop Sequence

I want a job as a passenger.

A passenger?

Yes, a passenger, preferably upon a train. I don’t mind doing a full day’s passengering, but I’d like to miss the rush hours, and I’m not too keen on the Underground. So, a leisurely, all-stops-stopping route where I could start near to my home, and finish… near to my home would be just the job.

Do you live near to a railway station?

Oh, yes. I live very close to Adlestrop.

Adlestrop?

Yes. It’s a brisk walk. Most convivial to the health.

Okay. I shall process your application, and I expect we shall be in touch.

Soon?

I wouldn’t hold your breath.

Okay, thank you.

Good day!

Ticket’s please!

Sorry?

Nothing.

Pictorian Poetry

The Picts lived in Scotland

back when it was called something else – before becoming Albanese, and then Scottishland –

as you do,

or, at least, as they did,

in Victorian times,

or slightly before

(my history knowledge being sketchy at best,

they are blue and hairy,

with naer’ee a vest

between them)

and please excuse my accent,

as I am from just south of the border

by a few hundred miles,

and my accents are a bit hit and miss

I’ll admit it, with smiles,

and I don’t mean to diss

respect the Scotch nation,

I’ve even been there

and seen their elation

at the weather, and the cold;

it makes them of brave heart,

or so I’ve been told;

and porage with salt

is what they all eat,

with extra salt on Sundays,

as a “special” auld treat.

And there’s haggis and the caber,

bagpipes and neeps,

tartan and custard,

heather and sheeps;

and Nessy in a loch

whom you never will see,

and there’s one other thing you won’t see in Scotland,

which is a sassenach like me.

Telyn, the Harp.

“I’m Telyn, the Harp.”

“Telling the harp what?”

“No. My name is Telyn, and I am a harp. The Harp.”

“Oh.”

“And what, may I ask, are you?”

“May you well ask. I am… fanfare of drums… a piece of metal that has been twisted into a shape.”

“A triangle.”

“That’s it. I have been twisted into a triangular shape… but, I don’t know what I am called.”

“Perhaps, ‘Tingy’ might be a good name for you.”

“Ooh! That would be lovely. Tingy the thing made into a triangular shape. How happy I am!”

And with that, he struck himself on the head with a small rod of metal.

“Ting!!!!”

Telyn sighed, a lovely glissando of a sigh, but, a sigh nevertheless.

delyow omhweles

delyow omhweles

my a yll aga gweles

onen hag oll.

leaves fall down

I can see them

one and all.

Thor the Thoughtful Seagull – #1

Thor looked down

upon the town

at all the milling people.

Thor thought deeply,

about all manner of things,

and today he thought about… hats.

‘Some people wear hats,’

he mused to himself,

‘whilst others do not.’

thus thought Thor the Thoughtful Seagull.

Then he went on to think of other things.

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