Are there any poets out there?

[salymap]

I wish I could write a poem to my cousin who took me to the supermarket. What a difference only having to walk one way means.

Sorry, off topic

[Mary Chambers]

or the Spike Milligan variation

The boy stood on the burning deck,
Whence all but he had fled.
Twit.

Now that is what I call great poetry.

[salymap]

Sorry but my school/childhood memory is of....

The boy stood on the burnimg deck,
His feet were covered with blisters,
He had no trousers to himself,
He had to borrow his sister's. Don't blame me, Ididn'tcompose it, just remember it from 70 odd years

[salymap]

And for some great poetry listen to R4 on Friday 30th at2.15pm to TS Eliot's The Waste Land. Details on the

ARTS & IDEAS FORUM.

[EdgeleyRob]

My favourite Spike Milligan poem ( my grandson loves this)

Today I saw a little worm,
Wiggling on his belly,
Perhaps he'd like to come inside,
And see what's on the telly.

[EdgeleyRob]

A short ode on the demise of our favourite classical music magazine.

There is a magazine called Gramophone,
It was number one, out on its own,
It's since been overtaken,
By many a publication.

[EdgeleyRob]

Alas poor Radio three,
You aint what you used to be,
Before the tweets and cds,
It was just vinyl that pleased,
Presented by those who knew,
The music played and by who,
Programmes to teach and inform,
That's what was always the norm,
None of this e mail and phone,
Just lovely music alone,
Now we just get the best bits,
A bit like classical hits,
Crikey we even get charts,
And less insight on the arts,
At least we have TTN,
And full works played now and then,
How I miss radio three,
It aint what it used to be.

(It'll cost if you want me to stop)

[salymap]

Carry on Edgeley Rob, it expresses the feelings of most of us.

[EdgeleyRob]

I listened to breakfast on three,
It's Bolero again I see,
Antongould asked us and we chose,
The music we'd like as we rose,
Instead we get nothing but bits,
Of works as we rise from our pits,
So rather than more by Ravel,
Or that canon by Pachelbel,
I plead Petroc you try if you can,
To play us something by Alkan,
But nothing will change it would seem,
It's turning into a bad dream,
Next time we turn on the wireless,
A chunk of the planets I'd guess.

(anyone fancy setting these to music ?)

[EdgeleyRob]

Now I turn to this Schubert fest,
It's put my patience to the test,
His music to me is so dear,
It often makes me shed a tear,
Music for piano and voice,
There's certainly plenty of choice,
Great C Major and Trout Quintet,
Fine quartets, sonatas and yet,
When twenty four seven it's played,
Tempers will no doubt soon get frayed,
It's music to calm and inspire,
But how it's presented is dire.

[cloughie]

Let’s shed a tear for EdgeleyRob
There’s many a thing to make him sob
A surfeit of Schubert on Radio 3
Like those silly requests to SMP
And the round ball game causes him to fret
As County struggle in the Blue Square Bet.

[EdgeleyRob]

Let’s shed a tear for EdgeleyRob
There’s many a thing to make him sob
A surfeit of Schubert on Radio 3
Like those silly requests to SMP
And the round ball game causes him to fret
As County struggle in the Blue Square Bet.

Cheers Cloughie

(now, what rhymes with owls?)

[EdgeleyRob]

I love to watch the round ball game,
And some on here do just the same,
At St Marys on a match day,
Teamsaint loves to watch the Saints play;
For AM Wrexham is the team,
Bound for the playoffs it would seem,
Bath City are bottom it's sad,
They must drive Aeolium mad,
And Cloughie loves watching the Owls,
When they lose he screams and he howls
And me,my team is the Hatters,
Mid table is all that matters.


(Should I give up the day job?)

[cloughie]

I love to watch the round ball game,
And some on here do just the same,
At St Marys on a match day,
Teamsaint loves to watch the Saints play;
For AM Wrexham is the team,
Bound for the playoffs it would seem,
Bath City are bottom it's sad,
They must drive Aeolium mad,
And Cloughie loves watching the Owls,
When they lose he screams and he howls
And me,my team is the Hatters,
Mid table is all that matters.


(Should I give up the day job?)

Probably not if you're like me:

Some people like Sudoku games
Do ‘em in minutes such are their claims
There’s others who a song can croon
Or with an instrument play a tune
Write harmonies in fifths and thirds
But Edge and me just play with words!

Shakespeare went into a pub and ordered a pint - the landlord said 'I can't serve you, you're Bard'!

[salymap]

Penultimate means last but one,
And then the Schubertfest is done,
What next from Mr Roger Wright,
To bombard us, both day and night,
With one composer, no respite?