Lundi limerick #3

A cow with a pendulous udder

developed one hell of a judder

She drifted off course

bumped into a horse

and now steers her bum with a rudder!

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Rapid rhyme #2

Please make up your own tune and sing aloud!

 

Sing a song of Facebook, Twitter, and WhatsApp.

Let’s all tweet about it, really it’s all crap.

Count your friends around you when you are alone,

‘scuse me while I go away I have to check my phone!

The fly.

A fly came in and flew around, he buzzed this way and that.

It caused near apoplexy for my parrot and my cat.

My parrot said, “now bugger off”, my cat spoke not at all,

She was too busy flying round and bouncing off the wall.

 

My parrot said “I did not know that you could really fly.”

The fly, misunderstanding, said, “it’s just how I get by!”

The cat, meanwhile, was leaping up and down across the room.

The fly was sure to get caught soon and then would meet its doom.

 

I thought that I could help things out, and maybe swat the fly.

The parrot squawked, and grabbed the cat, and said “here let me try.”

The fur was flying all around, the cushions were all scattered;

The dogs walked in and chased  the bird, and fly, and cat, all tattered.

 

Now, dogs, and cat, and bird, and fly, were chasing round and round.

It made me oh so giddy that I fell down to the ground.

I tumbled round and round and round, and slowly I arose,

when very much, to my surprise, the fly flew up my nose!

 

Very soon the cat arrived, determined to give chase.

She tried her best to catch the fly but merely scratched my face.

The cat was closely followed by the dogs, and then the bird;

The situation really was becoming most absurd!

 

The outcome of this saga was determined by my wife.

She smacked me on the nose, and thus she ended all the strife.

The fly was done, it was no more, all thanks to our dear mummy;

I sniffed, and swallowed; down it went, it ended in my tummy!

Flower Power, or a wandering mind!

I wandered lonely as a cloud,

but hang on mate, is that allowed?

I’m sure that’s one too many thrills.

We’re talking golden daffodils!

 

A crowd beside a lake, and trees,

all smoking pot and popping e’s;

The waves beside them danced with glee

and drowned the boss’s effigy.

 

A poet, gay, or maybe straight,

whilst passing through the garden gate,

reclined on couch, in pensive mood,

and all his friends thought him most rude.

 

But now his heart o’erflowed with pleasure,

displayed his love and took his measure,

and, as he rose above the crest,

declared those daffodils the best!

 

With more than a little nod towards:

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

 

BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Twittering Tale #67 – “The Tree” – 16 January 2018

It’s time again for Kat Myrman’s wonderful challenge to tax our creative souls. Just take her photo prompt and write a story, inspired by it, in 280 characters or fewer.

pexels-photo-veeterzy

Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution. Check out all the fabulous entries here.

OK you pesky elves, someone is having a laugh.
That middle tree is upside down!
I want you to dig it up and plant it the right way.

We can’t do that mister, it’s getting dark.

Never mind about that, just get it done.

No, we can’t do that! It’s against the new rules for elfin safety!

(279 characters)

It rather spoils the tale but, on checking, I find that what is “Health and Safety” in the UK is “Occupational Safety and Health” in USA, “Workplace Health and Safety” in Australia, and any number of other descriptions in other countries, so my tale falls a bit flat! Put it down to age!!

Twittering Tale #65 – 2 January 2018

It’s time again for Kat Myrman’s wonderful challenge to tax our creative souls. Just take her photo prompt and write a story, inspired by it, in 280 characters or fewer.

img_0355.jpg

Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution. Check out all the fabulous entries here.

“I’ll just explain again. You accelerate hard. Don’t worry about the bumps and bends, the bus will keep you safe. Now, this is the important bit. Once you get to 97mph the vehicle will disappear. You’ll still be in it though.”

“Any side effects?”

“You may wet yourself.”

“Thanks!”

(278 characters)

My Brain

This was written at the age of about 17, in my “sort of journal”. It probably explains a lot about me, and definitely shows up the early onset of idiocy!

In case some readers do not know what tripe is, you probably don’t want to know, but this is what it looks like:

tripeSeriously, would you eat this?

The harder I try to put my feelings and thoughts into words, the more difficult it becomes.

To write down these words, on paper, is even more difficult, nye impossible. The seeming infinity of the brain’s reasoning functions, and its associated thought patterns, far surpass the ability of man to put these resources to use.

Ever since time began, man’s brain has puzzled even the most brilliant specialists. Looking like a lump of tripe, its intricacy, yet simplicity is still not fully understood and, I think, will remain so until long after I’m dead.

With the brilliant circuits, made up of still more brilliant microscopic electronic components, man has strived to produce an artificial “brain”. However, the powers that made us, obviously did not intend us to know the “elixir of life”, for that’s surely what the brain must be.

Man can artificially produce all components of the body except the brain, and, perhaps, someday he may be granted the knowledge of knowledge. God help us when he is. Just think of the corruption it would bring.

I do not see, however, how such a wonderful collection of matter can possibly understand itself. The mere fact that it is so marvellous makes it unbelievable and, therefore, I think, almost impossible to fathom. I say almost because, in this age, specialists have successfully probed and repaired and, in one case transplanted brain matter.

I could go on for pages and pages but my lump of tripe tells me to stop, and who am I to argue with such wisdom?

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