When I took the picture
I left plenty of room
for the poem
that would accompany it.
When I took the other picture
I left plenty of room
for the seagull
that would inhabit it.
I didn’t take any more pictures,
as I’d left plenty of room
for improvement.
Poetry is all well and good,
when all is said and done,
and where there’s muck there’s brass,,
and words don’t come easy,
peasy.
Every poem has a silver lining,
and blue-sky thinking
can often provide
the basis for an airy poem.
When the sky is limiting,
and the birds fly through,
just to peck holes in your construction,
who is to say that a rhyme is a crime?
Who? said the owl of Oswestry.
If you had to write
a poem about clouds,
how would you begin?
Would you go outside
and look at the clouds,
or would you stay in?
Could you imagine the clouds
floating above your head?
Or would you you have to espy them
instead?
.
“I espy with my little eye,
something beginning with C!”
The A to Zeds,
that were in my heads,
were all written
with little thought.
I ought to have seen
that they lacked for nought;
like the finest wine
from the vineyard bought(
or the rarest word
so fanatically sought;
but, they just wrote themselves
with the words from my brainial shelves,
so that what you got
was not a lot.
Zodiax?!
It’s not a word
that I have ever seen
spelt like that;
however, I can work out
what
it relates to.
And, I have heard,
that of the twelve signs,
we are all one or another one.
I’m a Stradivarius,
what are you?
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #AtoZPrompts, #nonsense, #poetry. #poem, #silly, #Zocoac, #Zodiax
You can tell a lot
about a man,
from the thickness
of the mud
upon his van.
A is, for argument’s sake, Apple
B is for Bee,
C is for the Chive Mind
that thinks that D is for Dapple,
or Daffodil – which do you choose?
E is for Ever,
F is for Forever,
G is neither;
but G is for Grae, me.
And I love to bee by the sea.
You have not seen anything yet,
as I’m sure it is supposed to be;
and, therefore, you are either blind from birth,
or dramatically grammatically challenged.
Anyway, great song (of its time)
and from one of Canadia’s finest:
Bryan, Celine, Maple, etc.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #AtoZPrompts, #Bryan, #BTO, #Canadia, #Celine, #Maple, #nonsense, #poetry. #poem, #silly
Xylophones, the musical sort,
are purely for begonias.
I know, that makes little sense,
but, what does, these days?
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #AtoZPrompts, #Begonias, #nonsense, #poetry. #poem, #silly, #soc, #Xylophones
Six seagulls in Morrisons car park!
That’s six in number,
and not sexy gulls!
Anyway,
they were patiently waiting
for a bite to eat,
pacing nonchalantly
on their twelve gull feet;
calling to each other with the latest news;
and hoping for a morsel
to light the fuse.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #Gulls, #Morrisond, #nonsense, #poetry. #poem, #Seagulls, #silly
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Graeme Sandford 