Monthly Archives: May 2018

The Stonechat.

I saw a stonechat the other day;

it went on and on and on,

until… I rolled if down the hill

that we were stood upon.

It may have kept chatting,

I know not;

but, it probably gathered no moss.

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The Harvester of Combinations.

I am a harvester of combinations.

No, not the undergarments –

that would be extremely silly.

I gather the combinations from safes and locks.

’What is the point?’

I hear you ask.

’Everybody must have a hobby.’

I reply, with a degree of certainty –

rather than the degree of uncertainty

that I normally assume.

’Weirdo!’ you throw in my direction,

with all the mockery that you can muster.

’I’m not a ’weirdo’ I’m a ’nerd’ ’

I attempt correction;

but, knock me down with a feather duster,

you have gone, and didn’f hear my response.

I sigh a sigh,

and,

by and by,

continue on.

A Short and Sweet Spring Poem

We walked along a pretty street,

the scent of Spring around our feet,

and with the sight of verdant roses,

the aromas did assault our noses.

Limerick – Old Lady from Fowey.

There was an old lady from Fowey*

Who wished she had been born a boy;

Tom as her name;

Playing the rough-tumble game;

But, as Cindy she was purely a toy.

*Fowey in Cornwall is pronounced ’Foy’.

”Plant a Banana!”

”Plant a banana!” she said to me.

Well, that’s what I thought she said – I was only half awake, and only half of that was listening.

”I shall!” I replied, with just a hint of Potassium and a modest soupçon of Irony on the side.

I did. And wasn’t surprised when it bloomed in the night; because, I wasn’t there to see such a sight.

”You fool!” she cried, tears in her eyes – I’d wound her up quite a bit.

”You’re a silly banana!” she said with a shake; then she split.

“What on Earth is a Badriomaku?”

With a syllable count of 2-3-5-1-5-4-5, the Hungarian Badriomaku is interesting in that it gives you a structure that doesn’t fit any preconceived ideas.

“What on Earth is a Badriomaku?”

Today,

was Tuesday;

and the Sun shone down…

lots.

Tomorrow there’s rain;

and maybe storms;

well, we can but see.

When Haikus Rebel.

Don’t you just hate it

when a Haiku

just won’t fit the structure

and has too many syllables

to fit into three lines?