Tag Archives: #Bard

The Bardalooe of a Portalooe

The Bardalooe of a Portalooe

“I’ve done it!

I have!

They have bestowed upon me

the title of The Bardalooe…

of a Portalooe.

See?

I have a golden chain

of official authorority;

⁃ you have to have that

If you want to be

the Bardalooe

of a Portalooe –

and I have a Bard-like love of words;

and a spare roll of papier de toilét.

“¡Olé!”

How can I be the Bard a’Looe?

How can I be the Bard a’Looe?

How can I be

the Bard a’Looe,

when I am

unknown to you?

My poems writ,

and posted here,

never seem to

reappear;

they sink like bricks

in Cornish mud,

I think they shine,

perhaps they’re dud;

maybe my words

are trite and weak,

and it is sad

that I try to seek

the position

that I do…

I only want to be

the Bard a’Looe.

Bardolatry!

Don’t be affear’d;

my Bard is worse than my bite;

from first night to twelfth,

and beyond

a pond of flesh?

Pray, tarry not-

“Who writes this rot?”

I cans’t not tell

If all is well

that endeth such –

It is all too much a do.

Let loose the dogs

of Waterloo,

and if you

are waiting,

nothing will come.

Shakespeare’s Birthday #Shakespeare

Shakespeare’s Birthday

Did you send him a card?

Who?

The Bard.

Why?

It’s his birthday.

Wow! I didn’t know – how old is he?

He was born five hundred and fifty-four years ago.

Which makes him…?

If alive, he would be five hundred and fifty-four years old.

That’s a lot of candles!

It surely would be. But, he died in sixteen sixteen.

That’s sad.

On his birthday.

That’s very sad. (there is a short pause) Before or after the cake?

I think it was during.

Death by Chocolate?

Quite possibly.

Sad, and yet, not totally.