Off To The Mountains

Hip Hip Hip Hooray

We’re off to the Pyrenees
Tomorrow, not today
To test out our poorly knees

Hip Hip Hip Hooray

We’re going to escape the heat
I tell you where we’ll stay
A place that little can beat
A country very small
Where Catalan is spoken
Where mountains stand very tall
And the Euro is just a token

So see you when we get back

Next weekend hopefully
That’s if we don’t lose our track
And end up in the Alps 🙂

Author: gazoopi

After finally leaving the world of the black suit and tie, briefcase and laptop, hotel rooms and airports, and donning sandals, jeans and a flat cap, I have entered a new world of creative writing. If, through my written work, I can create a smile, cause a tear to fall or stimulate an LOL from my readers, I will be a winner!

26 thoughts on “Off To The Mountains”

  1. Have a good week, Gaz.

    If you lose your way dear chap,
    Perhaps you should consult a map.
    The Alps are just a stretch too far,
    You should perhaps have gone by car!

  2. Hi Christopher.

    Have a safe voyage. I hope that the tea, the whisky and your good self will all travel well.

    But, for the avoidance of doubt, sojourns are static and not mobile.

    Enjoy your journey from West to East and your sojourn in Moscow.

    M rs M sends her best wishes.

  3. It’s maybe a pre-metrication pome, so doesn’t have to display a boring fixed metre. It takes as its model the old-fashioned English yard, roughly the length of a man’s stride (assuming a tall healthy specimen). But strides and thus yards are not fixed invariable things. Sometimes they shorten, as when going uphill, sometimes they lengthen. Am I boring you?

  4. No, no, no, Colin! The ancient Greeks danced to the verses, forward and back, triipping the iambic fantastic. But alas, our cherished pome would have them tripping over themselves to fond the rhythm! 😳

  5. Dear Janus and Colin.

    I suspect Gazoopi is probably not too bothered about his pome at the moment, or rather the metre or meter thereof. He is purportedly on his way to Aunt Dora but seems unsure if she lives in the Pyrenees or the Alps.

    This to my mind is a rather more serious problem.

  6. Minor Elucidation Hiatus – 🙂

    I believe, Araminta, that it’s more likely to be Diogenes, is it not?

    Colin and Janus – it is, of course, a coin-in-the-slot meter, n’est-ce pas?

  7. Janus: perhaps like me you disapprove strongly of the iambic pentameter, that common metre in English poetry, not because of the way it sounds, but the way it’s spelt. It should of course be spelt iambic pentametre, not only for consistency but to avoid confusion with Bearsy’s penta-slot meter (accepts 5 different denominations of coin?).

    Th stress pattern is of course based on a sequence of five iambic feet or iambs, each consisting of a relatively unstressed syllable followed by a relatively stressed one. It should have been obvious to its inventor that anything with five feet was bound to cause problems. Nature abhors feet that don’t come in pairs. Five feet tend to trip over each other. Best then to steer clear of formal rules (and classicists) when writing pomes.

  8. I hope Gazoopi and Mrs G will be OK, remembering “the fleas that tease in the high Pyrenees”.

  9. I prefer to think of myself as a modernizer, as distinct from modernist Janus. It’s a labour of Hercules, needless to say, drawing on a classical non-modernist figure of speech to prove my point.

  10. Wow, some witty comments and good wishes.
    The knees held up, as did the cooler weather but we failed badly on the wine. Yep, every night a fresh bottle.
    A fantastic few days especially, the waterfall after a long day in the sunshine.

  11. For gaz:

    I see you’re back
    So welcome home!
    I thought I’d write
    This modern little pome
    Wot combines originality
    With cringing banality, like.

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