Tag Archives: Dialogue

Butterbean Barley Buddha Bowl (#Vegan Poetry)

Butterbean Barley Buddha Bowl (#Vegan Poetry)

Would you like…

a Butterbean Barley Buddha Bowl?

I’d like to be able to say it.

There’s a lady on the seashore, she sells them.

That figures.

“The man with the lamp”

“The man with the lamp”

“Is your name, Florence?”I asked the man

“No.”he said.

“But my mother‘s name was Florence, and me she bred;

I carried her lamp, I carry it still,

I turn it on when the weather is chill,

I warm my hands around the bulb… “

“… nothing much rhymes with ‘bulb’ does it, poet?

You thought you were clever,

coming out in this cold weather;

but, no, you’re not,

you’re such a ‘twonk’

and you can’t even use ‘that’ word as a rhyme for fear of offending somebody!”

Hwegh, Hwegh, Hwegh, the number of the (Cornish Duck) Beast.

Hwegh, Hwegh, Hwegh, the number of the (Cornish Duck) Beast.

“Hwegh!” cried out the duck, as he stood upon the sedimentary shore of his village pond.

“Hwegh!” a second time. The other ducks looked up from their self-reflections to see what the fuss was all about, quizzical looks in their eyes.

“Hwegh!” a third time. The ducks looked around and about – there must be something wrong; but, no matter how hard they scanned, near and far, they could see nothing to raise any concerns.

“Hugh is just winding us up.” said Jemima to Daphne,”He can be a little devil sometimes.”

Daphne agreed, and soon the ducks had returned to their self-reflection.

Hugh gaggled like a goose (but quietly) to himself.

Under the Light of the Midnight Moon

Under the Light of the Midnight Moon

Under the light

of the Midnight Moon,

A Racoon asked a Loon,

“Have you seen my spoon?”

And the Loon said, “No.”

This is just a little short and bitter-sweet vignette of a possible occurrence in Nature; but…

… it does raise more questions than it has answers for:

namely,

what is a Loon?

are different species able to communicate clearly and concisely with each other? – perhaps through an empathetical voice (as we never seem to hear them) and, is English a ‘default’ language in other countries as well as this one? – maybe they make use of Esperanto.

Should I have crowbarred the word’ Macaroon’ into the above poem? – it is a fine word, and makes very few appearances in modern literature.

And, finally, would a Racoon have the need of a spoon? – Nature seems to provide all that Naturists need… sorry, I think that I have used the wrong word there, Naturalists? No, just ‘Nature’ again is what I meant to say.

NB

The loons (North America) or divers (United Kingdom / Ireland) are a group of aquatic birds found in many parts of North America and northern Eurasia. All living species of loons are members of the genus Gavia, family Gaviidae and order Gaviiformes.

Sir Mordarthur.

LWG Christmassy Thing for 2019 – Sir Mordarthur.

‘It was the knight before Christmas.’

‘What was, dear?’

‘At the door. A knight in shining armour. He was selling his services door-to-door.‘

‘What sort of services, dear? We could do with some new tea-towels.’

‘Tea-towels? Hardly something that a Knight of the Round Table would interest himself in.’

‘Round Table? We could do with a new table cloth, too. Had he anything in that line?’

‘He was asking if we needed any dragons slain, evil wizards brought to justice, or any quests that were needing to be undertaken.’

‘Hmmmm. We don’t really believe in the slaying of dragons – all animals have a natural right to swoop upon poor unsuspecting townsfolk – if that’s the sort of thing they do.’

‘Exactly. And I don’t think we have any dragons in these parts – a few lizards, the odd tortoise – nothing that requires a knightly seeing-to.’

‘And no cotton goods, whatsoever?’

‘No.’

‘Couldn’t we have sent him on a quest to seek a Holy tea-towel. There must have been a venerable Saint somewhen in the past that used one to wash up the tea things – that would make it a holy relic.’

‘That’s a possibility. I’ll run out after him and see if he’s up for a bit of questing. He’s probably stopped in the village at the George & Dragon Public House (Est. 427AD), for a pint of mead.’

‘Okay. But, please stress that we desperately need at least one tea towel to dry up the Christmas things.’

‘I shall. Perhaps I can lay it on thick about the difficulty we have using bundles of straw to try and clean the plates – most unsatisfactory.’

He left, the door closing behind him.

Well, it was the knight before Christmas, and maybe, just maybe, a tea-towel could be found at short notice by a noble knight of the Round Table.

And, maybe, just maybe Thomas The Malory and Daisy also The Malory would be able to carry out a proper post-Christmas washing-up operation.

Thomas The Malory soon reached the George & Dragon Public House (Est. 427AD), and was relieved to see a huge charger tied up outside of the pub – it was Jimmy the Mediaeval Spiv, who charged over 4000% APR (All Pennies Recovered) on his ‘loaning of monies’ scheme – however, he was currently unable to answer any of Thomas The Malory’s questions on the availability of a payday loan at decent rates as he was a little tied up at the moment.

Leaving Jimmy the Mediaeval Spiv to rue upon the error of his Mediaeval ways, Thomas the Malory entered into the public bar of the George & Dragon (Est. 427AD) and then entered into conversation with the local yokels. They quickly pointed out that the seven-foot tall gentleman in the shiny armour was probably the questing-type Knight that he was looking for.

Thomas The Malory walked across the crowded public bar area, and into the reverential space that existed around the metal-clad potential quester and greeted the knight in the traditional manner,

“Y’arright?

What ya drinking, Sir knight,

may I, on your best behest,

on payment of a quest,

perchance purchase you

of another brew?”

The Knight, unaccustomed as he was to public bar speaking, nodded gravely, upon which action his visor slipped down with an almighty, ‘clang!’

Having huge decoratively decorated gauntlets upon his hand-areas, the noble knight was unable then to reopen his visor, or drink his drink (and, straws, having recently been outlawed, were not an option). Thomas The Malory saw an opening. Into which he poked a fire rod from the nearby fire. After a good deal of prising, the visor conceded defeat and rose with a ‘creeeeeeeeak!’

“Okay.” said the knight – for he was a worthy knight, for all that he was anachronistic – and slightly drunk, “I shall grant you the quest that you behest, I shall do my best, and shall not rest, until… I have travelled East, and I have travelled West (possibly going in all the other directions, too) until I have brought you that which you request.” and having said such, he gathered his wits about him and left the public bar of the George & Dragon Public House (Est. 427AD) and set off in a generally Southerly direction.

‘It was the Knight before Christmas.’

‘Was that who was at the door?’

‘Yes.’ said Thomas The Malory to his darling Daisy also The Malory. He left us this.’

‘Is it a tea-towel?’ asked the darling Daisy also The Malory.

‘Well…’ said Thomas The Malory, ‘I think that the knight may have misheard my words and requirements when we were stood in the public bar of the George & Dragon Public House (Est. 427AD).’

‘Why? What has the noble knight quested for us?’

“Well, it’s not a tea-towel: it’s a different type of towel, altogether; it’s a teat-owl, and it’s just had babies.’

The washing-up would have to wait for another year.

“Shall we meander, Miranda?”

“Shall we meander, Miranda?”

One day, on the Island.

“Shall we meander, Miranda?”

“Yes, let’s! When, father?”

“Straight ‘way, Miranda.”

“Oh, dad!”

And off they toddled, at once, upon their winding way.

Dr Wholittle and the Planet of Verbeaux Sanimaux.

Dr Wholittle and the Planet of Verbeaux Sanimaux.

It was a quiet day on Verbeaux Sanimaux when the Doctor arrived – the Tardis causing some unexpected excitement, that nobody was expecting.

The dust had barely settled around the (time and relative dimension in space) craft, before the planet’s welcoming committee (of three ducks and a black and white cow) had arranged themselves to greet the visitor (or visitors).

The Doctor opened the door of the strange blue spaceship, and leapt from within, to without.

“Hi, and hello!” he carolled.

The ducks and the cow – observing Verbeaux Sanimaux’s quaint, and old-fashioned, tradition – launched into the three-hour long spiel, that was designed to test the fettle and the mettle of newcomers to their planet.