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Cat Forum / Cat Anecdotes / April 2005OT Poetry Month
This is very late, but I just remembered that April is Poetry Month!! SO before the month gets away from us altogether, I'd like to have a thread where we share some favorite poems. Here's some Shakespeare, from "Cymbeline": Fear no more the heat o' the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages; Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o' the great; Thou art past the tyrant's stroke: Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak: The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust. Fear no more the lightning-flash, Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone; Fear not slander, censure rash; Thou hast finished joy and moan; All lovers young, all lovers must Consign to thee, and come to dust. No exorciser harm thee! Nor no witchcraft charm thee! Ghost unlaid forbear thee! Nothing ill come near thee! Quiet consummation have; And renownéd be thy grave. Theresa Theresa Stinky Pictures: http://community.webshots.com/album/125591586JWEFwh My Blog: http://www.humanitas.blogspot.com > This is very late, but I just remembered that April is Poetry Month!! SO > before the month gets away from us altogether, I'd like to have a thread [quoted text clipped - 34 lines] > Stinky Pictures: http://community.webshots.com/album/125591586JWEFwh My > Blog: http://www.humanitas.blogspot.com I had quite a time finding something suitable for "anecdotes" -- here is one by Ogden Nash --- The Cat One gets a wife, one gets a house. Eventually one gets a mouse. One gets some words regarding mice. ONE GETS A KITTY IN A TRICE By 2 a.m..., or thereabout, The mouse is in, the cat is out. It dawns upon one, in one's cot, The mouse is still, the cat is not. Instead of Pussy, says one's spouse, One should have bought another mouse. Best wishes. MLB >> This is very late, but I just remembered that April is Poetry Month!! SO >> before the month gets away from us altogether, I'd like to have a thread [quoted text clipped - 53 lines] > > Best wishes. MLB Or in honor of the Income Tax season, here is one from The Ladies Home Journal of many years ago --- I'm sending this note to remind you That taxes have taken away The things I found most essential -- My reindeer, my workshop, my sleigh. I now make my rounds on a donkey He's old and crippled and slow; So you"ll know if you don't see me next Christmas That I'm out on my a.s in the snow. ---------St. Nicholas I *like* that poem by Santa, MLB! Now don't forget, Theresa....you asked for this: There was a young lady from Niger Who smiled as she rode on a tiger They returned from the ride With the lady inside And the smile on the face of the tiger. A tad classier (at least it's not a limerick) poem whose English author I can't remember: I do not like thee, Mr. Pell. The reason why I cannot tell. But this I know, and know full well: I do not like thee, Mr. Pell. I know a lot more limericks but don't rattle my cage again lest you suffer them here; LOL. Happy Poetry month! >>> This is very late, but I just remembered that April is Poetry Month!! SO >>> before the month gets away from us altogether, I'd like to have a thread [quoted text clipped - 66 lines] > That I'm out on my a.s in the snow. > ---------St. Nicholas >I *like* that poem by Santa, MLB! Now don't forget, >Theresa....you asked for this: [quoted text clipped - 15 lines] >I know a lot more limericks but don't rattle my cage again lest you suffer >them here; LOL. Happy Poetry month! heeheehee. I just thought of the young lady from Ealing. :P Theresa Stinky Pictures: http://community.webshots.com/album/125591586JWEFwh My Blog: http://www.humanitas.blogspot.com >>I *like* that poem by Santa, MLB! Now don't forget, Theresa....you asked >>for this: [quoted text clipped - 23 lines] > Stinky Pictures: http://community.webshots.com/album/125591586JWEFwh My > Blog: http://www.humanitas.blogspot.com Who is she? MLB It's *another* limerick, but not one I learned in grade school, like the one I posted about the tiger. Most but not all limericks are racy. >>>I *like* that poem by Santa, MLB! Now don't forget, Theresa....you asked >>>for this: [quoted text clipped - 25 lines] > > Who is she? MLB >I do not like thee, Mr. Pell. >The reason why I cannot tell. >But this I know, and know full well: >I do not like thee, Mr. Pell. Google is your friend. Mr. Pell -> Doctor Fell and the writer is Tom Brown, 17th Century Englishman. Hopitus wrote:> > I know a lot more limericks but don't rattle my cage again lest you suffer > them here; LOL. Happy Poetry month!/// There was a woman from Leeds, who swallowed a packet of seeds. In less than an hour, Her A$$ was a flower, And her hair, a tangle of weeds. Helen M (feeling naughty ;o)) > Hopitus wrote:> > [quoted text clipped - 11 lines] > > Helen M (feeling naughty ;o)) I know one about "the young man from Liverpool..." but that one's too risky for a family-oriented newsgroup.  SignatureChristine in Vantaa, Finland christal63 (at) gmail (dot) com photos: http://photos.yahoo.com/christal63 photos: http://community.webshots.com/user/chkr63 > I *like* that poem by Santa, MLB! Now don't forget, > Theresa....you asked for this: [quoted text clipped - 15 lines] > I know a lot more limericks but don't rattle my cage again lest you > suffer them here; LOL. Happy Poetry month! There was a young vicar frow Kew, Whose cat used to sit on the pew, He taught it each week, A letter from greek, But never got further than mu. SignatureAdrian (Owned by Snoopy & Bagheera) A house is not a home, without a cat. That's a good one, Adrian! >> I *like* that poem by Santa, MLB! Now don't forget, >> Theresa....you asked for this: [quoted text clipped - 21 lines] > A letter from greek, > But never got further than mu. WARNING When I am an old woman I shall wear purple With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me. And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter. I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells And run my stick along the public railings And make up for the sobriety of my youth. I shall go out in my slippers in the rain And pick the flowers in other people's gardens And learn to spit. You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat And eat three pounds of sausages at a go Or only bread and pickle for a week And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes. But now we must have clothes that keep us dry And pay our rent and not swear in the street And set a good example for the children. We must have friends to dinner and read the papers. But maybe I ought to practice a little now? So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple. SignatureCathi
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