Oh thanks, I erroneously thought it might be Lear. It puzzled me as a small child 
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Yellow?
There is no rhyme for orange, it is said,
Though other colour words are much more mellow.
Purple would be tricky, blue instead?
But Robert Browning, that most skilful fellow
Writing couplets, did not use "Sordello"
As a rhyme word. I'm not feeling keen;
This verbal cherry's like a sharp Morello.
It's hard to write exactly what I mean.
The ballade's verse form, if I'm not misled
Should be quite perfect, like a Donatello.
And, sound and meaning harmonised and wed,
Aspire to music (published by Novello
Or even suites by J.S.Bach for 'cello).
Be realistic; this one isn't clean,
But more like rough and squeaky Punchinello.
It's hard to say exactly what I mean.
A ballade if not written is unread,
As though the Bard had never staged Othello,
Had kept the tragic sequence in his head.
But verse for Shakespeare wasn't hard duello
And I'm in seige before a grim Martello,
Embattled on an ochre coloured scene.
I've said this all before, a ritornello?
It's hard to know exactly what I mean.
"And now we've reached the envoi", I can bellow.
And dedicate the lot to Prince or Queen.
(Let's patronise that vineyard down in Wellow)
It's hard to think exactly what I mean.Comment
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Donovan said they call it Mellow Yellow, quite rightly.
As you may know, here in Cornwall we don't like the idea of the Pasty Tax - here is my response in rhyme:
There’s loopholes in the v a t
No more hot pasties for you and me
Unless we find another fifty p
For Gideon and his treasury.
Gideon Osborn the chancellor
Taxes us high and taxes us more
Taxes the poor to pay the rich
Taxes hot pasties – life’s a bitch.
Mugs us all, he never begs
He taxes Ginsters, taxes Greggs
Sausage rolls, pies he’ll tax the lot
Anything that’s vaguely hot.
Taxing Warrens, Philps and Rowes
Gideon’s daily gaining foes
Messing up the Lizard’s business plan
Taxing the pasties made by Ann
We’ll take the fight to London Wall
At number eleven make a call
Trelawny’s 20000 bold
Don’t want to eat their pasties cold
With Devonwall and Pastygate
You had your chance you’ve sealed your fate
But you added to our rural woes
As one by one the bakeries close
Remember Gideon the old and grey
Those who on hot pasties taxes pay
When at the general election
You’ll feel the weight of our rejection.Comment
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A Tribute
He did not rage, and whether night was good
Hardly concerned him. A gentle way
He went. And so with each and every day
He lived as well and kindly as he could.
A serious man, but rarely sad or grave,
Able to tell an unexpected joke
To entertain his family and folk;
But, absolutely, he was always brave.
Where else have we, his friends and family seen
A cultivation of the encroaching wild
Enough to render even nature mild?
His garden tended, guarded, for the green,
He gave us all, this hope, the perfect right
To celebrate a lifetime lived in light.Comment
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A beautifuuly crafted sonnet in the style of John MiltonOriginally posted by agingjb View Post
More, please!
Hornspieler
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Thank you.
The tribute is to my late father-in-law, who died aged 97 back in the summer. That sonnet came almost immediately; writing verse usually takes me ages and ends up obscure. The starting point was Dylan Thomas of course.
Some bits and pieces in various forms, including sonnets, and mostly somewhat inaccessible, are listed here.Comment
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Belated thanks.
To encourage the others, I've added two more ("Intervals" and "Pelican Court"] to the list.
The forms are (more interesting than the content perhaps):
a sequence of four sonnets in abbacddcdefdef form (whatever that is).
quatrains with abba rhymes
both in pentameters (bit rough in places)Last edited by agingjb; 12-02-13, 10:32.Comment
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