Im sure Griff enjoyed my little ditty, maybe he copied it and put it up on a wall. I am open to requests, its a bit slow, a little culture goes a long way.
So does talent, which i have got.
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Im sure Griff enjoyed my little ditty, maybe he copied it and put it up on a wall. I am open to requests, its a bit slow, a little culture goes a long way.
So does talent, which i have got.
Up the Dale
Down the Ale
Up the Dale not for Sale
Down the Ale
Up the Dale
Do I win a prize 😀😀
My friend Billy had a five foot willy
He showed it to the girl next door,
She thought it was a snake
And hit it with a rake.
Now it's only two foot four.
Anonymous.
I wish I was a diamond ring
Upon a ladies hand,
Then every time she wipes her arse
I’ll see the promised land.
Aspatria station bog wall c.1969
And also……the shortest poem in history - unless you know better:
Coughin’
Coffin.
I thank you.
Rockin' robin?
Yes yes yes, excellent. Yes blackdog, you win my admiration. And griff, there is an assumption in there. Maybe the object of lust was in fact where the paper was inserted. I can certainly sign up to that one.
And piglet..... try harder.
I would now like to render my brilliance, and i shall but not today, as i must give you something that will touch deeply. When a birthday or christmas comes up, it might be worth writing this love poem into a card for your beloved. It will be well recieved.
It was written by an Indian prince who fell in love with a girl who was the wrong caste, racist or what. He was imprisoned to be executed, and in that frenzy, wrote this.
It wuz found in the dead sea scrolls, it is very old.
Even now,
I remember you made answer very softly,
We being one soul, your hand on my hair,
The burning memory rounding your near lips,
I have seen the priestesses of Rati make love at moon fall
And then in a carpeted hall with a bright gold lamp
Lie down carelessly anywhere to sleep.
Even now i love cypress and roses clear
The great blue mountains and the small grey hills
The sounding of the sea
Upon a day, i saw strange eyes and hands like butterflies
For me at morning larks flew from the thyme,
And children came to bathe in little streams.
Even now,
I know that i have savoured the hot taste of life,
Lifting green cups and gold at the great feast
Just for a small and forgotten time
I have had full in my eyes from off my girl
The whitest pouring of eternal light......
Sob.....