Verbiage!
It’s what I spout out!
My words (not mine, just borrowed)
thrown together
like a last-minute picnic,
determined to make
all attendees squirm
at the fare provided.
.
Verbal Garbage
only destined for the bin,
with much correctness left out
and such errors, as can be used,
left in.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #nonsense, #poetry. #poem, #Rubbish, #silly, #VerbalGarbage, #Verbiage, words
Who can forget Rupert,
Rupert the Bear?
Who, indeed?
I did.
Along with Yogi, Boo Boo, Barney, Biffo…
… and all the anthropomorphic bear characters
that are, were, or will be.
Bear with…
I saw a lofthatch today,
Originally I thought it was a nuthatch but I was wrong;
You could tell by its lack of plumage that it wasn’t a nuthatch.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #birds, #Lofthatch, #nonsense, #Nuthatch, #poetry. #poem, #silly, prose
Or is it threebears?
I can’t tell the difference;
I can bearly count.
A bear, in the woods,
just might be up to no good;
like their forbears were.
What can I write about for the 30 days?
Can I phase myself to do this?
Can Grae’s mind find such stuff
(as poems are made on)?
Can you help me with my theme?
Or is this all going to be an undreamt dream?
.
Please comment on what you think I ‘might’ be able to write upon – many TIAs. G:)
Do you think
we’ll ever get the hang of this?
I don’t think;
not any more.
Why not?
Is it the height?
That and other things:
like us, puppet-like,on strings,
hanging above a distance of…
lots!
And seeing the knots,
that you tied,
above us,
coming loose.
‘Beware the ideas of March!’
an old woman once said to me.
‘Seize her!’ I had cried,
tears falling from my eyes.
And, yet, I still had ideas,
above and beyond my station,
which caused my desecration
by a dozen or so knives –
after the first few I wasn’t counting –
amounting to my demise.
‘Et tu, Brute?’
I managed, before I croaked;
‘No, I ate them all!’ Brutus, he joked.
Luckily, his reply was lost to me.
I had not seen my ending coming,
sore that it was,
and, so I did concur
that my life was completed
with such ‘infamy’ –
I should have listened to her.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #Ideas, #IdesOfMarch, #JuliusCaesar, #poetry. #poem, @Shakespeare
Come into the garden, Maud,
for the black-backed gull, has flown;
come into the garden, Maud,
I don’t want to be alone.
.
My gull had kept me company,
a bag of chips for one, for two, or threeeee-
come into the garden, Maud,
even though the chips have gone.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #Chips, #ComeIntoTheGatdenMaud, #GreatBlackBackedGull, #Gull, #poetry. #poem, #Tennyson, song
Another day
in a long succession of days,
each following the last,
and preceding the next;
when will it ever end?
 | Cynthia Praski on SoCS – Tape – #4… |
 | Words from a Lentil… on SoCS – Tape – #4… |
| Cynthia Praski on SoCS – Tape – #4… |
| Words from a Lentil… on SoCS – Tape – #4… |
| Cynthia Praski on SoCS – Tape – #4… |
Graeme Sandford 