Punting.
The thrill
Of hunting
Will
Cause a man to lose
His money and common sense.
Pounds and pence
Are thrown away
On girls who choose
To join the boat
Bound for rocky shore.
Punting
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Category Archives: musings
Fantasies
Hot fantasies grow cold
With old
Men
Who obsess on them.
And what
Of hot
Fantasies tried?
The pleasure soon dies.
The Land of Lost Content (a Parody)
Below is my parody of Housman’s poem “The Land of Lost Content”. You can find a link to the original public domain poem at the end of my parody.
—
Into my heart an air that thrills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered thrills,
What squires, what housemaids are those?
That is the land of Squire Kent,
I see him with Jane,
The happy housemaid where he went.
I had better not explain!
We Fuss and Rush
We fuss
And rush
Through life.
Perhaps take
A lover,
A husband
Or wife.
We will find time
To weave our rhyme
We say,
For there must
Be another day.
And the dust
Gathers unseen.
The Pretty Ear Lobe
When I found a pretty ear lobe
Protruding from my fine old bedroom wardrobe
I said, “Miss Moore
Are you quite sure
That you are looking for your globe?”.
The Draw
She sprays cheap perfume
In his living room.
Then smokes a cigarette
At his open window.
She must go
(As others have before).
He will feel regret
And say “no more”.
But grubby deals
With girls in heels
Will draw,
As before.
Rake and Paramore
“We walk through dust.
Her stilettoed feet
Click on the street.
Circumstance does thrust
Birds of diverse feather
Together for pleasure.
While money may impress,
Whirling dust
Will take
The flesh
Of paramore, and rake”.
I Thought I Had Lost
I thought I had lost
The key to my clock.
When I found it again
It’s old tick tock
Continued on. but time
He pauses not.
(The above poem first appeared in my June Author Newsletter, which can be accessed here https://mailchi.mp/37a9976abe1c/kevins-june-author-newsletter).
When I Watch the Living Meet by Alfred Edward Housman
On Sunday 1 August, I took down my copy of A E Housman’s A Shropshire Lad. Whilst I am an admirer of Housman’s work, as with all poets and authors, certain of his writings resonate with me more so than do others. One such poem is “When I Watch the Living Meet”, which appears in A Shropshire Lad and is reproduced below. For more about Alfred Edward Housman please visit https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/a-e-housman. For the free ebook of A Shropshire Lad please see https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/5720.
When I watch the living meet,
And the moving pageant file
Warm and breathing through the street
Where I lodge a little while,
If the heats of hate and lust
In the house of flesh are strong,
Let me mind the house of dust
Where my sojourn shall be long.
In the nation that is not
Nothing stands that stood before;
There revenges are forgot,
And the hater hates no more;
Lovers lying two and two
Ask not whom they sleep beside,
And the bridegroom all night through
Never turns him to the bride.
My Uncle Flow
While visiting my most favourite old uncle Flow
I said, “uncle, do you happen to know
Why you have a girl’s name?”.
He replied, “my dear nephew Jane,
My real name is Louisa, as you know!”.
