Monthly Archives: April 2018

Sometimes I Think On Men Of Great Estate

Sometimes I think on men of great estate
Who would, of an evening late
Gaze over the countryside
And wonder whether democracy’s rising tide
Would bring civilisation to an end.

I can not pretend
That there was not in such men
A desire for their privilege to survive
Democracy’s rising tide.
Yet I regret
The idea that any fool
May rule
And I feel in my heart
That democracy and mobocracy
Are sometimes not that far apart

Great Art

Some go down the primrose path to hell
With a song in their heart.
The wise well
Know that those who go
Down that path
Oft produce great art.
Some do so
With a bitter laugh
And others with a sigh,
And I
Wonder why
Devils can make angels cry

There Was A Young Lady Called Lou

There was a young lady called Lou
Who hit me with her shoe.
When I ran away
I’m sorry to say
That she hit me with her other shoe!

There was a young lady called Lou
Who hit me with her shoe.
When I ran away
I regret to say
That I stole her other shoe

There was a young lady called Lou
Who hit me with her shoe.
I ran away
That very day
And left Lou stuck in glue!

A Girl’s Bare Arm

Her arm bare under my hand.
I have no command
And shee
Is not Of me.

I wonder does she understand
The fact
Of her impact
On men?

When she
Laughs it is with me
(But with others to)
So I know
That it can not be true.

Does she
See through me
As we walk
And talk?

Yet there is no
Harm in enjoying the charm
Of a soft, bare arm
Of a girl who happened to be free
And offered it to me.

There Was A Young Man Called Standish

There was a young man called Standish
Who’s behaviour was rather offhandish.
When I said “you are most rude”.
He replied “you dare to intrude,
Your conduct is truly outlandish!”

There Was An Elderly Man Called Lear

There was an elderly man called Lear
Who said “the future is bleak I fear.
I shall drink 2 bottles of wine
And on caviar dine,
Then call on my young mistress Mia …

I caught An Elusive Thing

I caught an elusive thing.
‘Twas happiness on the wing.
Honeyed words were said
And we ended in bed.

I caught an elusive thing.
‘Twas happiness on the wing.
The birds sang on a summer’s day
And I implored my mistress to stay.

The birds still
Sing
And will
Bring
Sad thoughts to mind
For I find
That within their song
Resides the truth “this won’t last long”.