‘From Tiptree With Love’
“The Man With The Golden Spread”
“The Spy Who Loved Toast”
–//–
@Tiptree #JamesBondFilms
@Jane_Goldsack supplied the lovely home-made bread.
Photographed by me.
Original idea from Ian Fleming
Filmed in Breakovision.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #JamesBond, #Marmalade, #tiptree, #Toast, @Jane_Goldsack, Haiku
Manx(u) Cat
The Cat Who Can (Manxu)
“Me? How?
Okay.
Now?
You have to give me time!
No?
Fine! Saus-a-ges
!”
With many thanks to Jane for alerting me to this form – 2-2-1-6-1-4-! (Must finish with an !).
Contents: Naughty
A little sack of gold
If the truth be told
If I may be so bold
A tale may here unfold
Of goods and things so sold
Lovely to behold
And it’s worth will not grow old
Or fires blaze to cold…
It is our supper…
in a little sack of gold.
Not that the French say this.
The invention
Of intention
Happened
One day
Purely by chance.
It added a new dimension
To my writing
And, did I mention
It happened
One day
Purely by chance?
It was at a dance
In France
A chanson d’amour
Was playing
For sure
On the juke-box
Ooh-la-la!
It was le chanson
Tous les jours
For the day
All day
Every day.
Posted in Collaboration, France, French, silly
Tagged #Collaboration, #silly, @Jane_Goldsack, French
Frying-Pan the Cat (her name, not an instruction, oh, no, no!
“I am not a big fan of fans.”
Said Frying-Pan, the cat
And that was that.
.
She often made these strange comments
From her saf-é-ty-mat
‘She’ called it that.
.
“Nor am I! exclaimed Frying-Pan;
As she sizzled and spat!
‘Her’ name was ‘Cat!’
.
“It’s a topsy-turvy world here!
And no mistake!” said Matt;
A passing gnat.
.
But, it was just another day
In Rain-Cloud-Cuckoo Flat;
Where ‘things’ ‘do’ chat.
Posted in Nonsense Verse, poem, Poetry, silly
Tagged #nonsense, #verse, @Jane_Goldsack, Poetry
Fill up my coffee cup
With kindness
And I won’t miss my brew
I Fill up my coffee cup with you
Tagged #Coffee, #drink, #esspresso, #love, @Jane_Goldsack
J. S. Goldsack
We talk via text
When apart
Each hard at work
But, taking a moment to touch
Across the miles.
.
We think via empathy
And the pathway spanning my mind is a well worn route
From your crossings and recrossings;
You know the way.
But, sometimes, when apart, we wobble
Because, sometimes, we are human jellies
And it is what we do.
.
Here, I say, never fear,
We shall be back in arms
Again
Soon, my dear.
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