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THE SONG OF WANDERING AENGUS By W B Yeats Your favourite poem

white bbbb

I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;

And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun

by: W.B. Yeats

It’s Snowing

 

window 12345 

Look out of the window

Look, look it is snowing

People are all slipping around

All of them towing and frowning

 

Nature has created a picture

A panoramic view of sheer delight

Covering everything with snow

O my what a wonderful sight

 

Children riding on their sledges

Careering down the hill

The air is filled with laughter

Giving everyone a exhilarating thrill

 

Transport all at a standstill

As the weather begins to freeze

The frost has painted a picture

Upon the pavements hedgerows and tree’s

 

We all get excited when we see the snow

We endure the problems it does bring

Then we know after it’s all over

We look forward to he coming of the Spring

 

Malcolm G Bradshaw

My sneaking tears

enjoy-the-rain

How heavy fell the rain that day
From burdened clouds of mournful grey.
The torrent forced them stay their height –
Composure swayed by onerous might.

My skin wrung wet with icy chill
As mud embraced that sodden hill; 
But mind of mine had elsewhere gone –
‘Twas clouds abandoned I was on.

The driving drops advanced their gears
To camouflage my sneaking tears –
Whence now did swell such floods of pain
To see me melt into this rain…

On equal bearing now were we: 
This rain, myself, in harmony.

Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009

TAKE A LOOK !!!! LORCH’S SNOW PLANE

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The Fog

The_Houses_of_Parliament_(Effect_of_Fog)

 

William Henry Davies was born in Newport, Monmouthshire, Wales. His father was, at the time a Publican. After an apprenticeship as a picture-frame maker and a series of labouring jobs, he travelled to America, first to New York and then to the Klondike.

He returned to England after an accident whilst jumping a train in Canada, where he lost a foot. Upon his return to Britain he led a poor, hard life living in London lodging houses and as a pedlar in the country. He married in 1923, Emma, who was much younger than he. His first poems were published when he was 34.

 

I saw the fog grow thick,

Which soon made blind my ken;

It made tall men of boys,
And giants of tall men.

It clutched my throat, I coughed;
Nothing was in my head
Except two heavy eyes
Like balls of burning lead.

And when it grew so black
That I could know no place,
I lost all judgment then,
Of distance and of space.

The street lamps, and the lights
Upon the halted cars,
Could either be on earth
Or be the heavenly stars.

A man passed by me close,
I asked my way, he said,
“Come, follow me, my friend”—
I followed where he led.

He rapped the stones in front,
“Trust me,” he said, “and come”;
I followed like a child—
A blind man led me home.

fe-domestic-appliance                                                                                                                                         26th. November 2012

I wrote this poem last week after seeing an item on the local news about a soldier who committed suicide. He saw a young girl step onto an I.D.E. whilst carrying her baby brother. The little girl died in his arms. Some months later, suffering from P.T.S.D. he was told by the Army to ” Man Up “. That was two months before his death.
As you can imagine I was inspired to write my poem and it came out very quick and raw. Reading it through I can see that it might upset some people but it was not written to shock only to show that everyone has feelings and sensitivities.
Even the battle-hardened serviceman can be affected by the brutality of war and the terrible things he sees can live with him for ever.
 
AN UPTURNED CHAIR
 
Man up soldier
Don’t you cry
Because you saw 
A baby die
 
Man up soldier
Don’t you moan
Time to show that
You have grown
 
Man up soldier
Yes it’s rough 
Show your buddies
That you’re tough
 
A child stepped on
An I.E.D.
So innocent, she
Did not see
 
You cradled her
And watched her die
And all you do 
Is whinge and cry
 
Now man up soldier
Hear what I say
Leave it here
Just walk away
 
Not long ago
They found him where
He hung above
An upturned chair
 
Don Holmes

THE LONDON TO BRIGHTON CAR RALLY

Don’t dilly- dally We’re off to the rally

To London and Brighton we will go,

The engine’s bright the plugs are clean

It still sounds like an old washing machine

So we are ready?

London to Brighton we will go,

So It’s off down the road

With engine Throbbing

The gears are grinding,

It’s steady as we go

Then the car just stops,

The engines starts steaming

Then the wife starts screaming,

One of the wheels fall off

It was a sorry sight to see,

I get a hammer, and a spanner

To try to fix it on the spot,

Then a man with a van

Said “yes I can”

It was the AA man you see,

So with all bits

He gets it fixed

And down the road we go,

So don’t dilly-dally

We are back in the rally

And to the sea -side we will go

By Thomas Sims

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