Solomon's poetry thread

[Solomon1]

Mary M. Milne

 

a relative of A. A. Milne jot?

[Solomon1]

FURRY BEAR

 

If I were a bear,

And a big bear too,

I shouldn't much care

If it froze or snew;

I shouldn't much mind

If it snowed or friz--

I'd be all fur-lined

With a coat like his!

 

For i'd have fur boots and a brown fur wrap,

And brown fur knickers and a big fur cap.

I'd have a fur muffle-ruff to cover my jaws.

And brown fur mittens on my big brown paws.

With a big brown furry-down up to my head,

I'd sleep all the winter in a big fur bed.

 

A. A. Milne

 

[jobee]

War over Braunstone

 

Walking round or sitting down,

I often get my mind around,

Things that happened long ago,

Up to my waist in drifting snow.

 

Or when I wondered how and why,

Birds took wing and learned to fly,

When women often talked of war,

And boyfriends they would see no more.

 

Airplanes that filled the sky,

Where they going? for what and why?

Vapour trails all day long,

Today you know there's something on.

 

And then at night what a show,

Amazing searchlights all aglow,

They pierce the sky off, then on,

Till droning planes they shine upon.

 

Little silver specks on high,

Like luminescent fire fly,

Huddled together in groups of four,

Embroiled into the winds of war.

 

I hope that there's some more to come,

O boy! am I just having fun,

Id love to see a plane on fire,

Crash into that old church spire.

 

And parachutes come floating down,

And me the hero of the town,

Arrest them all and take them to,

That old home guard arresting crew.

 

Alas, the all clear can be heard,

Then at once my thoughts transferred,

Tomorrows school what a shame!

Not those silly sums again.

 

I much prefer Bluebell Wood,

Pretending I am Robin Hood,

Or Fir Tree Forest that secret place,

Where startled pheasants scurry apace.

 

I'm tiring now must close my eyes,

Lets hope tomorrow brings surprise,

With some good luck the schools ablaze.

And I'll indulge in halcyon days.

 

Jb a coy 3 para©

[jobee]

Moonlight Sonata

 

In November 14 1940 500 planes of the the German Luftwaffe bombed Coventry city center.Their code name for this operation was Moonlight Sonata. Edna Viner was an off duty probationary nurse.

 

A lovely starry moonlit night,

With extra incandescent light,

Parachutes with chandelier flares,

Edna Viner sits and stares.

 

Alighting from a city bus,

Bemused and blinking, what’s the fuss?

Air raid sirens howled and moaned,

“I bet it’s Birmingham" she groaned.

 

“Not here I hope, it’s my night out,

My one and only drinking bout”

Then calling in to see her friend,

Her leisure time, soon to end.

 

At once the symphony began,

Coventry reacts to Hitler’s plan,

Incendiary bombs clatter down,

Like Christmas lights all around.

 

Buckets of sand douse the flames,

Ladies help in human chains,

Searchlights probed the sky around,

Fire engine's bells resound.

 

The sharp bark of Bofor guns,

The glistening sweat of Coventry’s sons,

High explosive bombs thud down,

To shake the heart of this boom town.

 

Fire watchers on roof tops high,

Silhouetted against the sky,

Buildings seem to leave the ground,

Bricks and mortar spewed around.

 

The old Cathedral gets it next,

As if deserved of no respect,

High explosive bombs come first,

Then when the lofty steeple bursts.

 

Showers of incendiaries fall all round,

Blackening the very ground,

Just one great wall of searing fire,

For those inside a funeral pyre.

 

Cov and Warwick's hospital now.

All the staff survived somehow,

They worked all night and did their best.

Still 520 were laid to rest.

 

 

Copyright © John Bishop 2004 - All rights reserved

[Joto]

a relative of A. A. Milne jot?

 

I've no idea Sol we must google it it appears they both like furry things.

Jobee I'll read yours later, (I have a headache) I do hope all these poems of yours are in a book.

[shanes teeth]

Haiku

 

To convey ones mood in seventeen syllables

Is very diffic

 

John Cooper Clarke

[jobee]

The Sky Lark

 

We hardly see this twittering bird,

Mystery abounds only sounds are heard,

Pylons stretching for miles around,

Golden cornfields its terrain abound.

 

Moths and butterflies all in view,

After sucking the morning dew,

See the sparrow hawk fluttering high,

A scurrying rabbit catches its eye.

 

It drops like stone out of the blue,

A shimmering sun blurs its hue,

A startled rabbit sniffs the air,

Danger threatens must beware.

 

Its warren beckons yards apace,

Hope indeed in this deadly chase,

In it goes quick as a flash,

The screeching hawk lands with a crash.

 

High above the lark still sings,

What joyous melody this chatterbox brings,

All day long it entertains,

Only dusk can still this refrain.

 

Mystery surrounds this melodious bird,

Visual contact almost unheard,

Come days end it leaves the sky,

Still unsighted from human eye.

 

Copyright © - John Bishop - All rights reserved

[jobee]

Ronald ‘Dutch’ Reagan

 

1911-2004

 

Lifeguard.

Sports Announcer.

Actor.

Businessman.

Soldier.

Governor.

President.

 

Tampico Illinois, a small rural town,

Quiet, simple, of little renown,

The verities of work were driven home,

Breaking the law was almost unknown.

 

The Reagan’s, Jack and Nella, lived there,

Catholic by faith, their living was bare,

In 1911 they gave birth to a boy,

Nella was happy overcome with joy.

 

A second son now, they possessed,

Jack made sure his bottom was blessed,

He liked a swig or two did Jack.

Occasionally falling flat on his back.

 

In 1914 to Chicago they moved.

But Jack was restless and soon removed.

Dixon Illinois was the next family stop,

Where Jack opened, The Family Boot Shop.

 

Their second son Ronald began to aspire,

Some acting skills he began to acquire,

With photographic memory Ronald was blessed,

To various interests his mind was addressed.

 

As a lifeguard at Black Rock he began,

Seven long summers, this career did span,

77 lives he claimed to have saved,

For many a soul the waters he braved.

 

At Eureka College he found what he was,

Not a great athlete or intellectual swot,

A good communicator was more his form,

This unique talent with which he was born.

 

Reporting sport is a media event,

So into radio he eventually went,

Making this a great success,

Next to movies he would progress.

 

With radio and movies he tasted success,

Politics next he was to address,

Getting the vote as California’s boss,

Pat Brown his opponent conceded the loss.

 

In 1970 he did it again,

California’s governor he would remain,

In 76 he went for the top,

Gerald Ford, caused, his ambitions to flop.

 

1980 would be his big year,

Elected as President he moved into gear,

Upping the arms race and spending like mad,

The Soviet Union started to sag.

 

Crushing Russia without firing a shot,

Gorbachev’s hand he very soon got,

Admittedly leaving his country in dept,

But the cold war was over that you could bet.

 

In 89 his reign came to its end,

A suspected illness began to offend,

Alzheimer’s declared in 94,

Ronald Dutch Regan was closing the door.

 

Ronald Regan made 55 movies,

The first, Love is on the Air.

The last, The killers.©

[Joto]

The poem about Ronald Reagan I read to hubby, he was a great fan of Ronald Reagan, and thought he was a great president. You certainly educate us with your work jobee

[jobee]

The poem about Ronald Reagan I read to hubby, he was a great fan of Ronald Reagan, and thought he was a great president. You certainly educate us with your work jobee

 

Yes I liked him, he'd have a go at anything.