There was a young man called Lefroy
Who thought every girl was his toy.
He met a lady called Kate
And learned too late
How a girl can a man’s ego destroy
There Was A Young Man Called Lefroy
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Category Archives: literature
There Was A Young Man Called Strange
There was a young man called Strange
Who lived in a moated grange.
The moat dried out
And his neighbours did shout,
“You must your affairs rearrange”!
Out of Tune
Thunder echoes but Thor
Is no more.
People look skywards as before
But only to remark
That the sky is dark.
The rain will clean
For a while, but the obscene
Heat
That festers in the calculating brain
Will remain.
The sane
Will go with the rain
That cools
While fools
Complain
That nature rules.
Researchers Recreate How Words Sounded 8000 Years Ago
Gall
When the sweating
And the getting
Is almost done
And our sun
Is setting,
Will we count a race well run?
Let us be wary lest the tears fall
And what seemed sweet, turn to gall.
There Was A Young Man Called Neil
There was a young man called Neil
Who’s love for a girl was passionate and real.
She said, “Beware,
For people stare
And my heart it is made of steel”!
Nice
As inconsequencial as a child who did say
As she walked past the aquarium yesterday,
“I have fish like that”.
Me, on my way from my flat
To the pub, thought of France
And innocent children who can no longer dance.
—
There is a shop selling tropical fish, reptiles etc some 10 minutes walk from my home. While strolling along to the pub yesterday evening (Sunday 17 July),I overheard the above snatch of conversation.
There Was a Young Lady Called Fiona
There was a young lady called Fiona
Who took a boat to Iona.
She fell in the sea,
Shouted “Now I am free.
I have always been a bit of a loner”!
As in Days of Yore
When the sun sinks
Man Drinks
From the Lillie lined pool
Where many a fool
Has drunk before.
As in days of yore
So it is now.
I think on how
Everything has changed
Yet remains the same.
The fool
Still drinks
As the sun sinks
Over the stagnant pool
Where lillies have long since gone to seed,
Vultures feed
And luxuriant weeds
Supply all needs.
“My Vibrating Vertebrae and Other Poems” by Agnes Mae Graham
A great guest post on my friend, Victoria (Tori) Zigler’s site, by Chris Graham (AKA the Story Reading Ape), about his mother, Agnes Mae Graham’s collection of poetry. For Chris’s post please follow this link, http://ziglernews.blogspot.co.uk/2016/07/poetry-book-by-author-agnes-mae-graham.html.
