Mar2005London
F4Mar2005 Dodgy Doggerel, DD16, on the streets
I've been indoors for three months now/ A cosy B 'n B.
Hotel Meridiana's called/ It's ASLAN, kind to me.
Before I leave, I ditch much gear/ Books, shoes, 'n clothes must go.
But no, the check out day's put off/ Chris Peacock's found more dough
This Feb'ry has been pretty cold/ Mid London had some snow!
Late winter has been wet 'n bad/ To that I could say no.
Now spring is nigh - the flowers, blossom,bloom/ The sun is high - I need not fear my doom.
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M7Mar
National Gallery, Gil Hart, Ortolano1520, Morini1570,Fragonard1750,Millet1850
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Tu15Mar2005, DD17, wildlife
In London pigeons ev'rywhere / The foxes do us con.
The London plane is leafless now/ Where have the sparrows gone?
'N on the Chilterns, beechwoods grow/ The Ridgeway on the height.
Mankind wildlife dry-footed went/ For stone-age man, 'twas right.
Up North, Scots pine, birch, Norway spruce/ Pied wagtail, birds, fieldfare.
Down South, fresh fruit, figs, apricot/ Those huge ants, ev'rywhere.
The wildest life of all is us, and we ... / are far too many - dirty land, air, sea.
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Sa19Mar2005, DD18, what?
What should this poem be about?/ What do I have to say?
There needs to be some thinking here/ But is it worth it , pray?
I watch the hopeless empty page/ My brain is shorn of light.
I need to want to write it down/ To have something to write.
If I have nothing to say, it's tiresome 'n boring, and lacking in insight.
I've been indoors for three months now/ A cosy B 'n B.
Hotel Meridiana's called/ It's ASLAN, kind to me.
Before I leave, I ditch much gear/ Books, shoes, 'n clothes must go.
But no, the check out day's put off/ Chris Peacock's found more dough
This Feb'ry has been pretty cold/ Mid London had some snow!
Late winter has been wet 'n bad/ To that I could say no.
Now spring is nigh - the flowers, blossom,bloom/ The sun is high - I need not fear my doom.
*********************************************************************
M7Mar
National Gallery, Gil Hart, Ortolano1520, Morini1570,Fragonard1750,Millet1850
***********************************************************************
Tu15Mar2005, DD17, wildlife
In London pigeons ev'rywhere / The foxes do us con.
The London plane is leafless now/ Where have the sparrows gone?
'N on the Chilterns, beechwoods grow/ The Ridgeway on the height.
Mankind wildlife dry-footed went/ For stone-age man, 'twas right.
Up North, Scots pine, birch, Norway spruce/ Pied wagtail, birds, fieldfare.
Down South, fresh fruit, figs, apricot/ Those huge ants, ev'rywhere.
The wildest life of all is us, and we ... / are far too many - dirty land, air, sea.
*******************************************************************
Sa19Mar2005, DD18, what?
What should this poem be about?/ What do I have to say?
There needs to be some thinking here/ But is it worth it , pray?
I watch the hopeless empty page/ My brain is shorn of light.
I need to want to write it down/ To have something to write.
If I have nothing to say, it's tiresome 'n boring, and lacking in insight.
posted by madelk at 2/01/2005 09:59:00 AM
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