An intriguing writer
….in purple lit shadows
While the Faerie caravan moves on
Towards some new stopping place.
Dressed up in robes and tiny crowns
These funny flying things
Do hide their wings
So they can pull their toadstool on its course….
Then dragging slow a sort of worn out faerie horse!
Yeah!
Gill McGrath©
Wisteria aided by worms
I was planning to make a carrot cake till my mother told me:
Charles Darwin wrote a book about worms…
So far I have not read it.
Worms are the opposite of us.
They never get angry or depressed as far as we can tell..
How fortunate as to psychoanalyze a worm would be hard.
Indeed could you tell a worm to lie on the sofa
Or would you have to climb inside a plant pot next to the worm?
As Wittgenstein might have said,
If worms could speak we would not understand what they said.
I don’t know,I think I can guess though…
I have some experience …symbolically that is.
Or is it metaphorically?
Imagine a worm on your couch.
Hmm,how are things going?
Yurp,blurp!
Well,that’s good.
Werp,serp!
Quite right,I am interfering with your transfernce.
Hurpppppppp.
Would you like a little soil?
Mummmm
Oh,dear…I should not have offered you anything.
Daddddddd.
Surely you don’t remember him?
Herrrrrrrr.
So your dad was a lady?
Oh ,ahhh!
Well,it takes all sorts.
Glumb,glomb.
I’m afraid your time is up.
Tinnnnnggggggggg
You want a minicab?
Taaaaaaaaaaaaa.
That’s £500
Do you take plastic?
No,only notes.
Doh,ray,me
I never knew worms could sing…
Well,you do now.
The Lord’s my shepherd I’ll not grunt.
Was a Jew’s lamb lingering here,in England’s green unpleasant land?
O praise ye the sword,its works to proclaim.
While leopards rung their blogs all night
Oh,run all ye faithful
Pale St Joseph poor and mental,God has made thee a cuckold.
We worship our bling,its worth we proclaim
All people that on earth do smell
Silent night,wholly light
…. call into Boots later.
[You may sometimes see ads here to make money for me.]
And an angel appeared to Mary and spake thus
Oy vey,Miriam.
And she replied.Oy vey.
You will be bare and wild
What?
Sorry,the wrong script… you will bear a child.
So what’s so odd about that.All women do it…
Well,that’s what is in the telegram.
But they’ve not been invented yet!
Oy vey! Amen.
Drecked again.
What an angel,what a wife!Poor Yussif
With apologies to Lewis Carroll and his fans including me
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/171647
‘Twas feelring ,and the grimy stoats
Said,wire a bumble to the knave.
All grimly were tomorrows moaned
And the thrown graphs stones were paved.
Beware the fabled cheesy scone
The laws so trite,the flaws per batch.
Beware the run up blurb and bun
The floor left on the latch.
He spank abnormal words in hand.
Wrong rhymes the grandsons wrote.
They arrested me by the pillow flea
With irony they bought.
And as in his British thought he would
Meet catwalks filled with eyes of glame
He rifled through my saddled frogs
Until spears brought me frame
Uno duo. uno dua
The awful spade bent thick as flak.
He raised the dead without their heads
Then froze the buffalo’s back.
Oh,was it pain,to write and schlock?
Give me those larns my Flemish buoy.
Oh,captchas day,hullo,oy vey!
He smarkled faux de roi.
‘Twas spellig and the grimy stoats
Said,fire a grumble on the waves.
All grimly were tomorrows moaned
And the grown graphs growths were grave.
How my heart sings 