I have stood
In many an English pub
Drinking beer
Both indifferent, and sometimes good.
Its queer
How people with nothing in common mingle
And those who go in single
A couple become
(At least until the rise of sun
On the morrow
When sorrow
May come,
Or they say
“That was fun”
And go their way
Or perhaps they are forever
Drawn together
As birds of a feather,
(Well, at least
Until eternal peace
Breaks their heart apart).

I have stood
In many an English pub
And sometimes caused a fuss
When I did discuss
Political matter.
No friendship did I shatter
Though I have heard
Many a foolish word
And spoken more than one or two
Its true.

I have shared a glass
With a pretty lass
At the bar
And wondered how far
(Or near we all are
To paradise
Or vice),
And I have said “good…

The pages were instantly recognizable due to black typeface and hand-painted red paragraph marks. Image: University of Reading/The Independent

Pages from one of the first books ever printed in England were recently found by librarians at the University of Reading. The pages, which were hidden away for decades in the pages of a different text, were meant to tell priests how to plan feasts.

Sarum Ordinal

According to Atlas Obscura and The Independent, the librarians found two pages from a priest’s handbook called Sarum Ordinal or Sarum Pye, which had been pasted inside of another book to reinforce its spine. A librarian working to restore that book noticed and pulled out the pages from the priest’s handbook; they date to between 1476 and 1477.

The librarian said she instantly noticed the “trademark blackletter typeface,” the layout, and red paragraph marks, which were typically added by hand after printing and…

A young man by the name of Spink
Is very fond of a drink.
But when he broke into mine
And drank my fine wine
The judge sentenced him to clink!

(Clink is another word for prison).

—

When a man by the name of Spink
Became lost in a good deal of drink
His wife called Clair,
Who is young and fair
Gave me a nod and a wink …

—

When, on the winding stair
I met a blond called Flair
My wife Anne
Grabbed a frying pan
And ended that affair!

Whilst walking around the great London Planetarium
I met a wild eyed Libertarian,
Who said, “sir, don’t you see
That we must have complete liberty!”.
Then he jumped into a passing aquarium!

I am feeling the most incredible feelings today – sitting here holding in my hands a book. It is called FAE DREAMS, published by FAE CORPS PUBLISHING INC in which six of my poems have been published. WOW!

When I first started writing poetry seriously I never thought I would ever be published, i did not think I was good enough!

I did self publish six books which I sold for the Lymphoma Association, which was the cancer that I had. But to actually be published by someone else is the most amazing feeling in the world. Thankyou Fae Corps Publishing for including me in this Anthology.

The book is available on Amazon, though in the U.K. there seems to be a dearth of the hard copies, though you can get it in Kindle form. In the U.K. there were only a few hard copies available and they were in…

I’m really not that sophisticated! I write poetry from my heart. It might not be “up there” with the good poets, but I try to put into words feelings and experiences the best way that I can. Feelings and experiences of all kinds.

I have done many poetry courses and got Diplomas and things. It was on those courses that I learned the different forms of poetry, and discovered a certain freedom in writing to a particular form, and i am always eager to learn new forms. I am not good at writing free verse. It seems to muddle me, although I sometimes do it.

Mostly I naturally seem to write mirror cinquains. I have tried to work out in my head why that is, but I don’t know. It just seems to come naturally to me.

Anyway, I just wanted to say that my poetry cones from my heart…

The owl and the pussycat went to sea, in a leaky, cardboard boat.
They had lost all their money
To a girl called Honey
Along with a £5 note.
The owl looked up to the stars above
And sang to a small guitar
“Oh beautiful pussy, oh pussy my love
I wonder where we are?
We are? We are?
I wonder where we are?”

With a sorrowful sigh
The pussy made reply:
“Owl,
You are a stupid old fowl!
Make no mistake
We
Are not at sea
But on a lake!
Oh what a stupid old fowl you are
You are
You are!
Oh what a stupid old fowl you are!”.

So they sailed away
For a year and a day
To the land where the bong tree grows.
And there in a wood
A stoned student stood
Blowing smoke from the end of his nose
His nose
His nose.