Monday, November 29, 2010

Potluck Poetry...Week 12


Potluck Poetry
Theme
"Nature: Plants, Creatures and the Cosmos"


Tendrils...

 New life springs forth unfurling, spiral upward seeking light 
Fragile feathery filigree yearning support


Slowly un-coils to strengthen, reaches out to lengthen
Searching for lifes grip, finding purchase in your wicked meanderings


Exquisite bud take bloom, attract bee as your innocent abetter
Fertile seeded pod ensures continuance

Strangulating competition in attritions war
Beware all others to your ultimate endeavour...
Succession Planning






My entry for this weeks "Poetry Potluck 12" at Jingle Poetry.
Click on the link in the side bar to join in or just have a good read of other poets with real talent

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Magpie Tale # 20

The tale of the toothbrush


"Grab another toothbrush and come help me with this grout
If we work 'em both together then the stains they will come out
And your father well he'll never know how bad I tipped the paint
Took him years to get to groutin' quite the craftsman... well he aint"

"Well the argments I had with him to get this tiling done
All the carping and the sniping hell it wern't a lot of fun
But your Old Ma here... she has her ways... of getting him to do.
Though the last time I employed them... well..we ended up with you!"

"Funny how time passes... you forget the little things
Holdin hands and walking in the park... and sitting on the swings
Oh your Pa, he charmed me silly with his funny little ways
Oh heck there's so much water passed ... since we had them salad days"

"That's right just scrub it up and down and wipe it with the cloth
With a little bit of elbow grease... the paint... she will come off
And your Pa well he'll be drunk.. again... from pub when he gets in
And if I don't have his dinner set... you know he'll make a din"

"Now you keep scrubbin there me love... just like your Old Ma showed
Your a good help to your mother.. oh my goodness how you've growed
And your Pa, he'll hardly notice when he comes in through the door
That both of us spent half the day... with toothbrush on the floor"...


I'm slowly working my way through older Magpie Tale Prompts and posting them here on my blog.
Please feel free to check them out and offer your feedback, because as a "newbie" to writing Poetry I appreciate any feedback or tips that you might offer.
Thank you again Steve...

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Magpie Tale #28






Ah to feel 'ot water it really is a treat
Makes ya feel just like a lady, laying back to soak ya feet
What things I can get up to, while the Mistress is away
And though she's such a pussycat,  mice still come out to play..

So of'en I have dreamed about, while laying on me bed
That I could play the Mistress... be all lah de dah instead..
All them laces and them petticoats the powders an' perfumes
  'er pretty frocks and bonnets worn... in fancy halls and rooms.

 I'd 'ave such a grand old time, I would be "Lady" Geraldine...
To all the lords an gentry... likes of me they never seen
I'd be 'oldin out me hand...  to wait for all of 'em to kiss
 Then 'ead for all the feast an drinkin... Oh 'ow it would be bliss

But the likes of me a lady... well that just aint gonna be
No...I laughs meselve's just thinkin... till I nearly has to pee
Well this water's gone all cold now and a chill's come in room
And the Misstress will be 'ome soon... and I'm wrinkled as a prune.

Now I best be gettin back to playin, just plain old Geraldine
I am the Mistress' chambermaid... to be spoken at not seen...
But I does enjoy me sneaky times of dreamin in ers' bath
"Lady Geraldine" Gawd 'elp me... Don't make me ruddy laugh.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Magpie Tale#17


All the worlds a stage...


Project! Project! Miss Dunlop
Oh It's really Quite absurd
How you've set your mind on Broadway
Though your voice, it can't be heared!

They must hear it in the Gods my dear 
And carry to the stalls
If only you'd project my dear
Your voice could rattle walls

Although it's quite appealing
 But too quiet I'm afraid
For a mouse with lofty longings
Well, your plans will be waylayed

And although you crave the limelight
I do fear it must be said...
Miss Dunlop learn projection dear
Else all fame's in your head.. 




I'm just working my way at random through some of the Past Prompts from
Magpie Tales...

Feel free to continue to leave a comments
Best Regards Steve

Magpie Tale #42


***Warning this verse may contain just a smidgen of vulgarity***....
(If you are offended I appologise in advance....)



"My cup runneth over" said the Spider to the Fly
"It has been such a long time since a dinner guest called by"
"What is on the menu?" asked the Fly of the Spider
"I'd like a piece of carrot cake and perhaps a mug of cider?"

"Cake and mug of cider" laughed the Spider to the Fly
"You'll be getting none of that... Though 'tis a meal for which to die"
"It wont be nothing fancy then?" enquired Fly of Spider 
"I guess I'll leave it up to you, I'll have what you decider" 

"There are many things" the spider chimed  "On which we both could feast".
"The rotting flesh of carrion" or "Five day old dead beast."
"There may be fruit gone moulded or sandwiches left waste"
"But I'm a rather descerning spider of very perculiar taste"

"You're  a very welcome diner" said the spider to the fly
"So many choices on the menu, now that you can't deny" 
"And while you've sat there patiently, well here's the funny thing"
"I've decided that for Luncheon we'll have someting on the wing"

"My minds made up" the Spider cried a dancing on eight feet
"You're on the menu Darling! It's you I'm going to eat."
A look of horror crossed the face of fly, now truly stuck.
I'm on the menu?... You cant mean? Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck...


For more fun join Willow at Magpie Tales
Just Clickerate on the link below..


Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Potluck Poetry...Week 10

This weeks potluck theme is

Magic & Miracles, Wonder & Wizardry




 
Cold dark moor
Spider and Rat
Scrying over crystal ball
 Witch and Cat

Fairie lights lantern
Gnarled bough of tree
Frog chasing Goblin
By pond on knee

All wonder and magic...
Of spell being cast
Call forth the blessings...
Of ancients past

Crone and sidekick
 Swirling misted hill
 Muttered incantation
  Bend ones will

Bubbled brewing potion
 Cauldron over fire
Chanting of ingredients
 Flame grow higher

Eye of newt
 Slime of snail
Festering fungi
Earwig tail


Fang of snake
Wing of bat
Fruit of nightshade
Powdered Gnat

Stir counter clockwise
Stir by three
Spirits whisper wisely
Come now to me

Mystical imaginings
Fortunes told
Cross my palm my pretty
For just a  piece of gold


This is my entry for Potluck Poetry week 10

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Magpie Tale #41

Lest We Forget




The eleventh hour  The eleventh day
The eleventh month
I hear you say
Age shall weary us... Not they 
I hear you say... I hear you say


A poppy lay on marble tomb
Remembrance to fruit of womb
Of lives short lived... So that we may
I here you say... I hear you say

So many souls fall where they lay
I hear you say... I hear you say
No chance to greet another day

Yet in the dawn of this new day
We shall remember ...
Remember them... I hear you say





Click on the stamp to visit our host "Willow" at Magpie Tales and find out how you too can join in the fun...


The Scarfy Tree...

I have a thing for scarves...
Nothing too fancy here


And I'm so happy and excited to be a part of the
 International Scarf Exchange #9 



These are just some of my Growing collection...

Spread the Love.

Friday, November 12, 2010

MagpieTale #40

The Necklace




Hillary stood before the window of the local drapers admiring the display of latest arrivals from places she could only imagine. The pretty French Silk prints immediately caught her eye... I have a new frock in mind and that fabric would be just the ticket she thought to herself...
"Oh.. what a lovely necklace" her ears suddenly assulted by the grating gushing voice of Audrey Pennington-Smythe. Her hyphenation disguising through assumption, a long lonely and resented spinsterhood.
Startled by the sudden interruption to her reverie, Hillary looked up and greeted her assailant through a clenched teeth smile. Sad, sad meddlesome woman she thought, don't give her and inch...

 "Hello Auldrey, how nice to see you. I'm sorry, I was quite lost admiring that beautiful french print in the window for my next frock. What was that you were saying?"
"I was commenting on your necklace Miss Nightingale. It must be new. I've not seen you wear it before. Was it a gift perchance?" she chimed oozing insincerity. "Another trinket from one of your, if I should be so bold as to say, many, gentleman suitors?" Her pursed and virginal lips formed into a thin line of derision.

Hillary recognised the thinly veiled envious wanting in the tone of Audrey's enquiry as she continued. "They all seem very keen to leave an impression on the coveted Miss Nightingale. Surely one of them  has stirred your interest by now. As it is, there are no doubt, any number from which to choose". Fetching in looks, well groomed and from a fine pedigree and very well moneyed little strumpet that you are... I've seen your type before, just like the harlot that took away my Christian. My love. So many years past. I shall cast a line here and see what I can hook. 
" I should think the caller that bestowed that fine, if not, a little ostentatious to my mind, accoutrement upon you would be well ahead in the stakes to gain your hand in marriage. What, with freshwater pearls and such a large and beautifully engraved pendant gold, catching the light and drawing ones eye to your ample bosom, It would surely have cost him a Kings ransom one would imagine."

Imagine away Audrey..thought Hillary don't give the old crone an inch of the truth lest unleash further the jealous and hurtful beast of thwarted love. "Yes. It is quite pretty Audrey. Thank you. And so as to allay your curiosity and  obviously compassionate concern regarding my state of being as yet un-wed. It was a gift from Father on his recent return from the Far East. He says he picked it up for a song at one something he called a bazaar.  I think that is what he called it.
 He says he had a marvelous time haggling with the vendor over a mutually agreed purchase price. It sounded such fun in his retelling. He had us all  in such fits of laughter. We were, all of us, quite positively exhausted by his conclusion."
"Oh." sighed Audrey. "What disappointment. I was hoping that it may have been form that lovely Marchinson Boy. He's grown into an outstanding young gentleman. His Father I happen to know, is frightfully proud of young Jeremy's foray into the business arena trading with companies based in the Far East. Such a coincidence...He too, like your Father, has only recently returned. I have seen him on several occasions, you know, riding out toward Nightingale Mannor.
She's snooping. The sly old busy body. I'll not give her an inch... "Why, Audrey, you are astute in your observations. Mr Marchinson has been a regular face at the Mannor since his return from the East. He consults with my Father in matters of business I believe." Hillary, averting her eyes as she embarassingly felt the warm sensation of tell tale colour rising to her cheeks. Oh no, not now she thought. Don't colour and give away your secret Hillary. As thoughts of the night before flooded her senses. Moonlit Jeremy. Standing beside her their hands entwined as they looked out toward the lake shore. Jeremy. Confessing his deep love for her. His preoccupying thoughts of her, of this very moment of asking for her hand. Of dreams they would make together as Mr and Mrs Jeremy Marchinson. The very thought  now filling her with further desire for him. Oh... don't give her an inch. Jeremy giving her the necklace. How her body seemed filled with tiny exquisite tremors as he fastened the clasp, kissing gently her nape as he did so. And then their embrace. Jeremy. Feeling his firm muscular body as he drew her into it's shelter. His warmth. His scent fueling her growing desire. Oh please she thought. Not here. Not now. And definitely not in front of Audrey Pennington-Smythe. 
Of all people.
 "I'm sorry Audrey" Hillary flustered. "It has been such a pleasure to see you, but, I really must away. Charles, my Brother is awating in the buggy and will be by now concerned about my whereabouts. Good day to you Audrey" and with that abruptly turned on her heel and hurriedly walked away in the direction of a waiting Charles.
 Audrey Pennington-Smythe remained quietly standing outside the Drapers. She turned slowly to her reflection mirrored in the glass and smiled smugly. "Well Audrey my dear. I do believe you got one"










Click on the stamp to visit Willow at "Magpie Tales"


Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Potluck Poetry...Week 9

Thank you Jingle for some Pot Luck Inspiration...

The Theme... Fortress, Building, Landmark...

Here goes...

Fortress

Forgotten forger of freedom
Fly faithfully to the fray
Godspeed on your journey
my you fight another day...


Buildings

Ancient Circus in the round...
Your catacombs dark... are neath the ground'...
Boughting slaves spill their blood to feed...
The crowd above with insatiable need...

Most Holy Emperor give thy silent word...
Thumb Up... Thumb down... cannot be heard...
May the victor fight another day...
To the loser... well... dead anyway..   



Landmark


"Cop an eyeful of the Eiffel"...Cries the vendor at her feet.
The lady towers grandly over heads on passing street.

"Get your own memento!... Hold the tower in your hand!"
At only fifteen Euros folks... "Its grand it's grand  it's grand"

Thursday, November 4, 2010

The sky is falling...




The sky is falling? I think not...
In all my life never heard such rot
When clouds are hung and passing by
Many things fall but not the sky

Try rain, or snow, or hail, or sleet
Try leaves all landed round my feet
Try blossom falling from a tree
The sky don't fall, you can't fool me!  


Join in the fun and inspiration and magnificent photography at "Magpie Tales" hosted by Willow

Magpie 38




Once tangible proof, now shaddow shrouded relic
Solitary desecrated stone of aging distant memory
A life past lived, perhaps loved, then lost...
What stories you hold within your marbled casing
Secret tales yet no one hears the whispered telling