From Our Pens/Keyboards

[Mel]

Latest post of the previous page:

Mel asked us all to write a tale,.....

Very good Dave, super

[Suffolkboy]

Now I wonder which expletive that could be?

I was thinking of 'Billionaire', I'm surprised at you, boatbuilder.

[Dave]

People would pay money for a view like this. I can only see southwards, but nothing’s perfect. When it rains there’s no shelter, it’s a good job I’ve always got my hat or I’d be in trouble. As for the people below making all that noise, especially their little urchins screaming and shouting. It’s the scaffolding that gets to me, it blocks the view, people up and down all day with buckets. All because of those pigeons. Coo cooing and poo pooing, I’d keelhaul them if it were up to me. I wish I’d never won the Battle of Trafalgar.

[Dave]

John the Boat Builder.


There was a pub in Lowestoft,
It was called ‘The Lamb and Poker’,
It served single malts,
In pints and quarts,
That wasn’t mediocre.

In walked a man, ‘My name is John,’
He said with glowing pride,
‘And I build boats,’
'That sometimes float,’
‘And sometimes don’t,’ he sighed.

‘I try my best, I swear I do,’
‘But it always ends in trouble,’
‘It’s all the fault,’
‘Of single malt,’
‘It’s making me see double.’

‘I build two masts instead of one,’
‘They double the boat’s speed,’
‘When it nears a rock,’
‘It just can’t stop,’
‘And sinks beneath the sea.’

‘I’ll give up malt,’ he promised all,
‘It make my boats too risky,’
He kept his word,
And I have heard,
He drinks rum now, never whiskey.

[boatbuilder]

Very good Dave, Well done!. It's a good job I can see the joke in it. Just one observation, I don't think I was ever involved in building one that sank, though. (Well not to my knowledge anyway - a lot could have happened since I retired and not heard about. )

[Dave]

Just one observation, I don't think I was ever involved in building one that sank, though.

I did hear something about you and the Titanic, boatbuilder, but I don't believe a word of it. We can discuss it later down The Lamb and Poker over a single malt, sorry, rum.

[boatbuilder]

Titanic was long before my time Dave as well you know.

However, I would prefer the Single Malt as opposed to the Rum so maybe we should arrange to meet in a pub halfway between Carlton Colville & Standon so you can buy me one, which according to a website I found would be in Thetford. However there is no Lamb & Poker there so I'll let you choose the venue.

PS.You'll have to arrange for someone to drive me home though as I don't drink & drive.

Halfway.JPG (67.1 KiB) Viewed 1044 times

[SNiBet]

which according to a website I found would be in Thetford.

What a great website

[SheilaO]

I found this poem which, looking back at Mel's 100 word 'Humpty Dumpty' story and funkychick's poem suggestion, I thought might fit into this topic.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Till someone pushed him and made him fall.
Forensics were gathered and evidence found
To discover who scattered Humpty around.

All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Were interviewed once, then questioned again
Suspects were constantly driven insane
Till finally someone cracked under the strain.

“I did it, I pushed him, I killed him”, he cried
“But really I’m sorry, way deep down inside.
It’s just that he constantly got all the fuss
But whoever wondered what happened to us?

Each night at bedtime, he takes all the glory
While we’re barely mentioned at all in the story
Yet what of us horses and all the kings men
Who couldn’t put Humpty together again.

We should be famous, not just tossed aside
Not have our celebrity status denied
Yet Humpty has his name written in lights
The nursery rhyme title should be ours by rights.

We have to deal with the stress of first aid;
The nightmare of seeing the moment replayed.
Yet just as we’ve dealt with the stress every time
Some other mum starts retelling the rhyme.

So do not be fooled by the name of the verse
For the king’s men and horses each time come off worse
For we have emotions, we feel stress and strain
But whoever heard of an egg that feels pain?”

Now this was confessed by a horse led astray
By jealousy on that terrible day.
He scrambled an egg with no mercy at all,
But made Humpty famous in one single fall.

Love it, thank you.

[SheilaO]

I'm sorry if this is boring, it's just a little story in verse I wrote for the grandkids

JUST AN OLD ROCKING CHAIR

It stood in the garden, battered and old
Where once she'd sat and stories she'd told
Entrancing children, now long flown the nest
Those days, she remembered, had been her best
The uplifted faces shining with pleasure,
Golden memories forever to treasure.

Sitting for a moment she rocked to and fro
It eased those old bones, that troubled her so,
Then faster and faster rocked that great chair
Until Whooooosssh it flew, way up in the air
Above the clouds, shooting high in the sky
As the landscape below went rushing by.

Past Blue ribbon rivers winding down to the seas,
Carpet like meadows with wild flowers and trees,
She skipped over oceans foaming and green,
Looked down on mountain where no one had been,
Saw peaks clad with innocent unbroken snow,
As the sun set in the skies with fiery glow.



Rising and falling she swooped over lands,
By golden deserts, with shimmering sands
Watching Camel trains trading goods from the east
Swaying through dunes, these ponderous beasts
Look like ships sailing through becalmed seas,
Carrying spices, perfumes and silks, with ease.

Then as she passed through a rainbow haze
She came to a land with magical ways
A land where the streets are paved with gold
Where Kings are wise and Princes are bold,
Princesses have hair that sweeps the ground
And witches and warlocks cast spells abound.

Here Elves and Fairies cavort in the sun
Pixies and Goblins play tricks and have fun
Animals can talk and we understand,
And birds sing in chorus and form a band
Where the sweetest of dreams always come true
It's where problems dissolve and troubles are few.





But just as she felt she might like to stay
The chair picked up speed, she was on her way
This time through a dark blue velvety sky
Where millions of bright stars twinkled up high
She looked in the face of a silvery moon
And then she was home, alas all too soon.

With an almighty clunk, the chair hit the ground
She rubbed her eyes and took a look round
Everything seemed to be where it should
The plant pots and spades and shed made of wood
It had been quite an adventure, that was true,
But why she'd been taken, she hadn't a clue

Now listen to me, and please do beware,
Whenever you sit in that old rocking chair
If you let it rock, well then take it slow
Because up in the air you're likely to go,
And you'll never know where it all might end
So just keep in mind, gently does it my friend

[boatbuilder]

That's far from boring, SheilaO - it's excellent. Have you published any yet? I look forward to more.

[Mel]

JUST AN OLD ROCKING CHAIR

Not just any old rocking chair SheilaO

I bet your grandchildren loved that...very good

[Dave]

Love it, thank you.

I'd like to claim it for my own work, SheilaO, but I found it on a website and couldn't resist posting it here. Your poem is very good, perhaps we can persuade boatbuilder to put up a prize for the best effort. The prize might be a second hand bag of Pork Scratchings he won on page six of February 2017 Infinity '4 & 5' though.

[SheilaO]

Love it, thank you.

I'd like to claim it for my own work, SheilaO, but I found it on a website and couldn't resist posting it here. Your poem is very good, perhaps we can persuade boatbuilder to put up a prize for the best effort. The prize might be a second hand bag of Pork Scratchings he won on page six of February 2017 Infinity '4 & 5' though.

Your work or not,I thoroughly enjoyed the read so thank you for finding it and taking the trouble to post it.

[SheilaO]

Hope this isn't too boring folks....to bad if it is eh


THE OAK TREE

In his hand he held an acorn, bitter sweet
And wondered just what mystery lay inside.
He bent to put it in the earth beneath his feet,
Now twixt he and me there is a millenium divide.

Then nature did her ever gentle stuff.
And sat back and watched, as from the acorn grew
A tender shoot, it's apparent frailty just a bluff,
For time will see it standing straight and true.

Now in your allotted space you nobly stand,
Where legions of mankind have seen your worth.
I feel your knotted skin beneath my hand,
And wrap my arms around your massive girth.

You softly whisper of life's secrets seen,
As raging wind and gentle breezes blow.
From side to side your twisted branches lean,
Ever watchful as life struggles too and fro.

Another world lives deep within your heart,
Where surrying insects , hide, remain unseen.
The busy squirrel knows you play your part
With food and shelter, when winters winds turn keen.

You are a nesting place for all in early spring,
How many, many times you've witnessed life rebirth
And seen the joy and sorrow this will bring,
As inevitably the sun moves 'cross the earth.

But my turn now to hold an acorn in my hand,
Hoping that my children’s children will eventually see
In that great circle, which was always planned,
The beauty of the Mighty Oak, a truly wondrous tree

[boatbuilder]

That's what I call a 'real' poem, SheilaO.