Ships slide
And collide
At night when the tide
Is high.
I
Have been left high
And dry
When the tide is gone.
Ships sail on
And I will find sport
At a different port
And ride
The tide
Again
Though it cause me pain.
You have seen desire
In a lover’s eye
Kindle then die.
You survived the fire
But I know well
That you have no riddle to tell.
Yet had you something to say
To those who pass your way
It would concern
A flame that does burn
Unrequited, for whom or what
I know not,
Or perhaps I hide
Inside the sphinx
Who can see
But will not reveal
The real
Me.
—
This poem was inspired by a visit to Crystal Palace Park, which contains a number of sphinxes https://memoirsofametrogirl.com/2017/01/08/crystal-palace-park-sphinxes-restored-history/
There was a young lady from Bath
Who was always up for a laugh.
I gave her a tickle
But got in a pickle
When I slipped and fell in the bath …
In weather hot
Girls in heels trot.
As legs catch the sun
Men dream of fun.
What time have I got?
I know not.
Riding a mare
To nowhere.
The pace is fast
And he
Will Spill
Into the vast
Gulf she
Can not fill.
But the run
Was fun
Was it not?
And he will trot
Again,
Though his heart says “beware
For the mare
Can not take away your pain.
The wise can see
That she
Is as thee”.
Men surf the brine.
As a line
Of mermaids throng
The sand. Their song
Odysseus heard long ago.
Many men were lost
For they failed to count the cost
And drowned. Twas always so
And the wise well know
With Sirens not to play
And with Odysseus stay
Lashed to the mast
Lest they drown in the ocean vast.
“The Odyssey isn’t relevant today”
The stupid say
But only look behind
The text and you will find
A very modern tale
Of the sailor who with a mermaid played
And for his stupidity paid.
There once was a lady called Rose
Who was a writer of prose.
Being a young lady of fashion
She showed great compassion
For a poet who wore shabby clothes
Each text
Would the bishop vex
Where he to know
So
Let us draw a discreet veil
Over his daughter’s conversation
Lest he turn pale
And the congregation
Find something other than hymns
To sing. Yet I think
That I see the devil wink.
I hear him whisper low
“You know
The bishop also
Has his sins …”.
I have no experience of this course. It does, however sound interesting and its free, https://josephinecorcoran.org/2018/05/29/how-to-make-a-poem-free-online-course/
“What is love?” I asked the poet of romance.
“Tis a rapturous dance
Wherein lovers lose countless hours
In verdant bowers
And flowers
Forever bloom”.
“What is love?” I asked the advertising executive in his suit of gray.
“Tis money you pay
On Valentines Day
For the overpriced chocolates I
Want lovers to buy”.
“What is love?” I asked the scientist in his white coat.
“Tis a chemical reaction in the brain
That causes pleasure and pain,
From which few can refrain”.
“What is love?” I asked the working girl.
“Tis a pearl
I once had but then did sell
As all men know well”.
“What is love?”
I asked the rake.
He refered me to the girl above
But could no further answer make.
