Let the wind blow high
Let the wind blow low
Through the streets
In my kilt, I’ll go
All the lassies say hello
Donald, where’s your troosers
Celebrated far and wide in Olde Englande, the annual festival still thrives. Can you guess the origin of this song composed in 1891 in a town I know well?
Did that get the heart beating? No? Never mind, she’s retiring now.
Je t’aime je t’aime, oui je t’aime
Moi non plus
Oh mon amour
Comme la vague irrésolue
Je vais, je vais et je viens
Entre tes reins
Je vais et je viens entre tes reins
Et je me retiens
Clive James is a wordsmith of the first order. For example:
And he strikes a familiar chord for me, fascinated as I am by the spoken and written word, its etymology, philology and sheer existence in this otherwise technological world.
Christmas for Monty and Robin
(With apologies to Amarinta)
And while the critters were all hob-nobbin’;
The field mice and the red-breast robin,
A squeal went up, ‘what, pray, was that?
‘I think it is the farmyard cat.’
‘Oh my sweet holy Jesus
I think she means to come and seize us.’ Read more…
A big thanks to the five contributors to the Animals competition. All the entries were first class.
Peter Alliss wouldn’t have liked the Latin speaking parrot in the poem by Janus but that’s golfers for you. I thought the piece was eximius.
Gazoopi put down in rhyme what he told us before about the stewing of his pet rabbit. Fifty years on it’s time the rabbit police thumped at his door.
Pseu’s dangerous moment in the life of a snail was captivating. Well-paced, the time was not crawling.
Bilby’s sausage dog was a sad tale but brilliantly written. My German’s not what it used to be so I had to use my German phrasebook (Stuff your Google) to translate. Great patter in the thread as well.
Congratulations on becoming a grandmother, Araminta. A mouse poem with a happy ending. Charming.
It was a shoot-out between Janus and Bilby. A very difficult decision but by the width of a gnat’s eyelash the winner is… Read more…
One of the problems of winning the poetry competition is racking the brain cells to come up with an interesting theme for the next one. I’m surprised no one has done a George C Scott and declined the award. But by Stanley, I suppose we all like wearing a little Laurel round our necks.
Down to business. I’m not sure if this is a duplicate (BEEP) from a past tournament but the subject is Animals. You can ode about ones you love, dislike, fear, respect, whatever. The choice is yours. I might even make a contribution myself. The only other rule is that you must include a foreign phrase in your poem. Something like dolce vita or achtung. This is just a little extra to make it harder and more interesting.
Closing date last minute of September (I forget how many days in it). Go for it- Quack, Woof, Baa, ROAR, oo-oo-at-at-at-at, Wrille.
Cherished colleagues I invite you to submit entries for the August poetry competition on the subject heading “A Musical Turn”. This may relate to a dance, a musical instrument, a phrase in a song, even an unusual musical chord (go on Jason you can make one up). You can even write a song which I may put to music.
I realise that this subject may fall on deaf ears but anything on “sound” or ” noise” will be accepted. Please use your imagination but I have to say that musicality will win bonus points. Closing date 31 August – midnight GMT.