Related quotes: It was an hairy oubit,...

The Oubit

It was an hairy oubit, sae proud he crept alang,
A feckless hairy oubit, and merrily he sang-
'My Minnie bad me bide at hame until I won my wings;
I show her soon my soul's aboon the warks o' creeping things.'

This feckless hairy oubit cam' hirpling by the linn,
A swirl o' wind cam' doun the glen, and blew that oubit in:
Oh when he took the water, the saumon fry they rose,
And tigg'd him a' to pieces sma', by head and tail and toes.

Tak' warning then, young poets a', by this poor oubit's shame;
Though Pegasus may nicher loud, keep Pegasus at hame.
Oh haud your hands frae inkhorns, though a' the Muses woo;
For critics lie, like saumon fry, to mak' their meals o' you.

Eversley, 1851.

poem by Charles Kingsley
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Of the Family

Hairy, Hairy, quite contrary
sat upon a stool.
Came the kindly wombat fairy
from the Fairy pool.
Said to Hairy, have a sherrie
makes the bowels loose,
Hairy thought it rather scary
maybe, too obtuse.

Hairy took a wife named Mary
fat she was and round
built a cosy, visionary
log home on the ground.

Home was small but Hairy loved it
'twas a sturdy log.
Found a lichen rug and shoved it
in to warm the frog.

Frog had been cast from his quarters
by his next of kin.
Sealed the wombat home with mortar
and they took him in.

Winter came and snow kept falling,
hibernate they did,
under Lichen there was balling
made another kid.

poem by Hairy Wombat
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Of the Family

Hairy, Hairy, quite contrary
sat upon a stool.
Came the kindly wombat fairy
from the Fairy pool.
Said to Hairy, have a sherrie
makes the bowels loose,
Hairy thought it rather scary
maybe, too obtuse.

Hairy took a wife named Mary
fat she was and round
built a cosy, visionary
log home on the ground.

Home was small but Hairy loved it
'twas a sturdy log.
Found a lichen rug and shoved it
in to warm the frog.

Frog had been cast from his quarters
by his next of kin.
Sealed the wombat home with mortar
and they took him in.

Winter came and snow kept falling,
hibernate they did,
under Lichen there was balling
made another kid.

poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Pegasus

(olivia newton-john)
There you were in my dream
Flying high just for me
Oh pegasus oh pegasus
White and strong soft and warm
Youve been in my mind so long
Oh pegasus oh pegasus
Where do you come from?
Where have you been?
Where will you go oh?
Ill call for you whenever I need you
Will you take me on your back and fly away?
Will you teach me why Im here and lead the way?
Oh pegasus
Spread your wings Ill climb on
Well explore the stars youre from
Oh pegasus oh pegasus
Youre a myth born of light
Sent to heal my world tonight
Oh pegasus oh pegasus
There you were in my dream
Flying high just for me
Oh pegasus oh pegasus
White and strong soft and warm
Youve been in my mind so long
Oh pegasus oh pegasus
Through all time youll live on
A gift to earth from dark till dawn
Oh pegasus oh pegasus
Creation of magic you live in my heart
Your spirit will guide me though were dimensions apart
There you were in my dream
Flying high just for me
Oh pegasus oh pegasus
Through all time youll live on
A gift to earth from dark till dawn
Oh pegasus
(repeats)

song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Hairy Fairy

In life, there are things we never expect to see
and a very large hairy fairy
with Pancho Villa moustache is one of them.
This one flew into my garden and squashed all my roses
on his bad landing on that fateful day.
Every time he waved his supposedly magic wand,
everything went bottom up.
The roses he tried to mend
had their flowers in the ground
and their roots pointing skyward in the air.
It got that bad I had to replant everyone.
I shuddered to think what other magic
he might have up his sleeve.
The big hairy fairy dressed in a short Toto
spread out his wings to say goodbye and fly away.
He never got no more than three feet off the ground
before he again came crashing down
squashing all my tulips this time.
Enough is enough you’re ruining garden.
Do you realise all the hard work I have put in.
The hairy fairy looked at me
and then started to cry.
No body loves me, even the fairies kicked me out
because I am different from them.
Being a soft heated fool I am
I invited him in for a cup of tea,
but everything he sat on broke
and now I was stuck with
a ten ton hairy fairy as a house guest.
As time went on my replacement, furniture
was costing me a packet.
Then one day I woke up and the big hairy fairy was gone,
now I kinda miss him.
However, saying that
I can start to rebuild what was my happy home again
and hope with luck that big hairy fairy does not come back again.
Then in my garden,
I heard an almighty thump
and looked out the window.
In my agony I moaned,
Oh no. He is back again.

poem by David Harris
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A hairy man's a geary man, but a hairy wife's a witch.

Gypsy proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pegasus

(clarke / hicks / nash)
Follow me, follow, see what you see.
Ill take somewhere where youve never been.
High on a mountain, deep down in the sea,
To faraway lands, you can travel with me.
Im pegasus, the flying horse.
Im pegasus, the flying horse.
Ride on my back and hold onto my wings
Ill take you by night to a time-leaping dream.
Time has no value where were going to
People are happy; there, theyre never blue.
Chorus
This can only happen to you
If you keep our secret.
Dont tell anyone about our magic horse.
You can go where you want, I can take you anywhere.
Because Im pegasus, the flying horse.
Im pegasus, the flying horse.
Chorus
Verse 1
Chorus
Im pegasus, the flying horse.

song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dowie Houms of Yarrow

LATE at een, drinkin' the wine,
And ere they paid the lawin',
They set a combat them between,
To fight it in the dawin'.

'O stay at hame, my noble lord!
O stay at hame, my marrow!
My cruel brother will you betray,
On the dowie houms o' Yarrow.'

'O fare ye weel, my lady gay!
O fare ye weel, my Sarah!
For I maun gae, tho' I ne'er return
Frae the dowie banks o' Yarrow.'

She kiss'd his cheek, she kamed his hair,
As she had done before, O;
She belted on his noble brand,
An' he 's awa to Yarrow.

O he 's gane up yon high, high hill--
I wat he gaed wi' sorrow--
An' in a den spied nine arm'd men,
I' the dowie houms o' Yarrow.

'O are ye come to drink the wine,
As ye hae doon before, O?
Or are ye come to wield the brand,
On the dowie banks o' Yarrow?'

'I am no come to drink the wine,
As I hae don before, O,
But I am come to wield the brand,
On the dowie houms o' Yarrow.'

Four he hurt, an' five he slew,
On the dowie houms o' Yarrow,
Till that stubborn knight came him behind,
An' ran his body thorrow.

'Gae hame, gae hame, good brother John,
An' tell your sister Sarah
To come an' lift her noble lord,
Who 's sleepin' sound on Yarrow.'

'Yestreen I dream'd a dolefu' dream;
I ken'd there wad be sorrow;
I dream'd I pu'd the heather green,
On the dowie banks o' Yarrow.'

She gaed up yon high, high hill--
I wat she gaed wi' sorrow--
An' in a den spied nine dead men,
On the dowie houms o' Yarrow.

She kiss'd his cheek, she kamed his hair,
As oft she did before, O;
She drank the red blood frae him ran,
On the dowie houms o' Yarrow.

'O haud your tongue, my douchter dear,
For what needs a' this sorrow?
I'll wed you on a better lord
Than him you lost on Yarrow.'

'O haud your tongue, my father dear,
An' dinna grieve your Sarah;
A better lord was never born
Than him I lost on Yarrow.

'Tak hame your ousen, tak hame your kye,
For they hae bred our sorrow;
I wiss that they had a' gane mad
When they cam first to Yarrow.'

poem by Anonymous
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The Legend Of Big Foot

A hairy man once roamed the earth,
a hairy thing, was he from birth,
the years would come, the years would go,
each year that passed, his hair would grow,
it grew so thick, his mum dispaired,
yet she kept trimming off his hair,
til sissors worn to nubs one day,
he shucked his clothes, and ran away,
his back, his bum, his chest, his head,
was covered with thick hair, it's said,
no need for clothes, so he wore none,
people would laugh, and he would run,
no runner born on Earth could beat,
this hairy critter with big feet,
he slept by day and roamed by night,
for cruel folk, had made him shy,
quite good in heart was he, bigfoot,
he never stole, he never took,
one day while he munched watercress,
he found a maiden in distress,
amazed, he looked upon her form,
her feet were bare, her dress was torn,
he towered over her and stared,
at all this chick's excessive hair,
he helped her up, not one word said,
he touched her hand, and smiled instead,
hand-in-hand, they walked from there,
to go where people could not stare,
the legend of big-foot began,
the night two hairy people ran,
into the lovely forrest green,
To mostly lived their lives, unseen

poem by Elizabeth Lindberg
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Picture for Me

I have a picture.

It's a fairy
That I want to mount

..in a frame...

To capture
That hairy fairy.

Hey! !

Don't accuse me of being bent.
Nairy a fairy.
Even one less hairy
And scary
Will ever get their way with me.

So you see
I just want to mount

...my fairy...

poem by George BernardBloodyShaw
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The Elphin Nourrice

I heard a cow low, a bonnie cow low,
An' a cow low down in yon glen;
Lang, lang will my young son greet,
Or his mither bid him come ben.

I heard a cow low, a bonnie cow low,
An' a cow low down in yon fauld;
Lang, lang will my young son greet,
Or is mither take him frae cauld.

Waken, Queen of Elfan,
An hear your Nourrice moan.
O moan ye for your meat,
Or moan ye for your fee,
Or moan ye for the ither bounties
That ladies are wont to gie?

I moan na for my meat,
Nor yet for my fee,
But I mourn for Christened land--
It's there I fain would be.

O nurse my bairn, Nourice, she says,
Till he stan' at your knee,
An' ye's win hame to Christen land,
Whar fain it's ye wad be.

O keep my bairn, Nourice,
Till he gang by the hauld,
An' ye's win hame to your young son,
Ye left in four nights auld.

poem by Andrew Lang
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Hairy Tits

You're mine to feel and touch,
I love your hairy tits,
I love you very much
And worship you to bits!

And when you feel my crutch
I get the age-old itch,
I like you very much,
I love your hairy tits!

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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A Galloway Song

Ah! ken ye what I met the day
Out oure the Mountains
A coming down by craggi[e]s grey
An mossie fountains --
A[h] goud hair'd Marie yeve I pray
Ane minute's guessing --
For that I met upon the way
Is past expressing.
As I stood where a rocky brig
A torrent crosses
I spied upon a misty rig
A troup o' Horses --
And as they trotted down the glen
I sped to meet them
To see if I might know the Men
To stop and greet them.
First Willie on his sleek mare came
At canting gallop --
His long hair rustled like a flame
On board a shallop.
Then came his brother Rab and then
Young Peggy's Mither
And Peggy too -- adown the glen
They went togither --
I saw her wrappit in her hood
Fra wind and raining --
Her cheek was flush wi' timid blood
'Twixt growth and waning --
She turn'd her dazed head full oft
For there her Brithers
Came riding with her Bridegroom soft
And mony ithers.
Young Tam came up an' eyed me quick
With reddened cheek --
Braw Tam was daffed like a chick --
He coud na speak --
Ah Marie they are all gane hame
Through blustering weather
An' every heart is full on flame
Ah! Marie they are all gone hame
Fra happy wedding,
Whilst I -- Ah is it not a shame?
Sad tears am shedding.

poem by John Keats
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I Saw Your Hairy Chest

The first person said:
'I saw your hairy chest that is why,
I came to you last night and we made love together';
The second person said;
'Why'? !
Then the first person replied:
'It is because i love men with hairy chest and,
I am ever ready to sleep with any of them'! !
And this was the conversation i heard among two people;
Then i said to myself: 'Love is too blind at times'.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Dowie Dens Of Yarrow

Late at e'en, drinking the wine,
And ere they paid the lawing,
They set a combat them between,
To fight it in the dawing.

'Oh, stay at hame, my noble lord,
Oh, stay at hame, my marrow!
My cruel brother will you betray
On the dowie houms of Yarrow.'

'Oh, fare ye weel, my ladye gaye!
Oh, fare ye weel, my Sarah!
For I maun gae, though I ne'er return,
Frae the dowie banks of Yarrow.'

She kiss'd his cheek, she kaim'd his hair,
As oft she had done before, O;
She belted him with his noble brand,
And he's away to Yarrow.

As he gaed up the Tennies bank,
I wot he gaed wi' sorrow,
Till, down in a den, he spied nine arm'd men,
On the dowie houms of Yarrow.

'Oh, come ye here to part your land,
The bonnie Forest thorough?
Or come ye here to wield your brand,
On the dowie houms of Yarrow?'

'I come not here to part my land,
And neither to beg nor borrow;
I come to wield my noble brand,
On the bonnie banks of Yarrow.

'If I see all, ye're nine to ane;
An that's an unequal marrow:
Yet will I fight, while lasts my brand,
On the bonnie banks of Yarrow.'

Four has he hurt, and five has slain,
On the bloody braes of Yarrow;
Till that stubborn knight came him behind,
And ran his body thorough.

'Gae hame, gae hame, good-brother John,
And tell your sister Sarah,
To come and lift her leafu' lord;
He's sleepin' sound on Yarrow.'

'Yestreen I dream'd a dolefu' dream;
I fear there will be sorrow!
I dream'd I pu'd the heather green,
Wi' my true love, on Yarrow.

'O gentle wind, that bloweth south,
From where my love repaireth,
Convey a kiss from his dear mouth,
And tell me how he fareth!

'But in the glen strive armed men;
They've wrought me dole and sorrow;
They've slain--the comeliest knight they've slain--
He bleeding lies on Yarrow.'

As she sped down yon high, high hill,
She gaed wi' dole and sorrow,
And in the den spied ten slain men,
On the dowie banks of Yarrow.

She kiss'd his cheek, she kaim'd his hair,
She search'd his wounds all thorough,
She kiss'd them, till her lips grew red,
On the dowie houms of Yarrow.

'Now, haud your tongue, my daughter dear!
For a' this breeds but sorrow;
I'll wed ye to a better lord
Than him ye lost on Yarrow.'

'Oh, haud your tongue, my father dear!
Ye mind me but of sorrow:
A fairer rose did never bloom
Than now lies cropp'd on Yarrow.'

poem by Andrew Lang
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PEGASUS and BELLEROPHONTE

His Creator was Sea God Poseidon
This winged-horse Pegasus demigod
Spiral horn on forehead his talisman
The Gods of Mt Olympus were awed

Pegasus delivered lightning bolts
When Zeus warred against men
When He put down their revolts
Men are prone to sin now n’ then

One day while drinking from a spring
Hero Bellerophonte captured Pegasus
As hero mounted, with deep voice did sing
“I’m coming for you Chimera”
Then tested flying horse flight n’agileness

They flew afar to slay a hideous monster…
Possessed of lion’s head, goat’s body, serpent’s tail
Whose breath could melt a fighting soldier’s armor
Confidently, astride Pegasus the hero could not fail

From high above they saw the ugly beast
As she wreaked death n’ havoc on the land
Into a downward dive, their speed increased
“The clash of the titans” was at hand

Bellerophonte drew a sword, the monster did behead
Pegasus hoofed Chimera, ensured she was dead

They placed the monster’s head in a basket
Then set off for Mt Olympus far away
At the “Golden gate” the two were met
Welcomed by gods and demigods that day

Heroes come in all shapes n’ sizes
Who justly deserve accolades ‘n prizes

ROTMS

poem by Ray Lucero
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The Braes o'Yarrow

Late at e'en, drinking the wine,
And ere they paid the lawing,
They set a combat them between,
To fight it in the dawing.

'What though ye be my sister's lord
We'll cross our swords to-morrow.'
'What though my wife your sister be,
I'll meet ye then on Yarrow.'

'O stay at hame, my ain gude lord!
O stay, my ain dear marrow!
My cruel brither will you betray
On the dowie banks of Yarrow.'

'O fare ye weel, my lady dear!
And put aside your sorrow;
For if I gae, I'll sune return
Frae the bonny banks o' Yarrow.'

She kiss'd his cheek, she kaimed his hair,
As oft she'd done before, O;
She belted him with his gude brand,
And he's awa' to Yarrow.

When he gaed up the Tennies bank,
As he gaed mony a morrow,
Nine armed men lay in a den
On the dowie braes o' Yarrow.

'O come ye here to hunt or hawk
The bonny Forest thorough?
Or come ye here to wield your brand
Upon the banks o' Yarrow?'

'I come not here to hunt or hawk
As oft I've dune before, O,
But I come here to wield my brand
Upon the banks o' Yarrow.

'If ye attack me nine to ane,
That God may send ye sorrow!--
Yet will I fight while stand I may,
On the bonny banks o' Yarrow.'

Two has he hurt, and three has slain,
On the bloody braes o' Yarrow;
But the stubborn knight crept in behind,
And pierced his body thorough.

'Gae hame, gae hame, you brither John,
And tell your sister sorrow,--
To come and lift her leafu' lord
On the dowie banks o' Yarrow.'

Her brither John gaed ower the hill,
As oft he'd dune before, O;
There he met his sister dear,
Cam' rinnin' fast to Yarrow.

'I dreamt a dream last night,' she says,
'I wish it binna sorrow;
I dreamt I pu'd the heather green
Wi' my true love on Yarrow.'

'I'll read your dream, sister,' he says,
'I'll read it into sorrow;
Ye're bidden go take up your love,
He's sleeping sound on Yarrow.'

She's torn the ribbons frae her head
That were baith braid and narrow;
She's kilted up her lang claithing,
And she's awa' to Yarrow.

She's ta'en him in her arms twa,
And gi'en him kisses thorough;
She sought to bind his many wounds,
But he lay dead on Yarrow.

'O haud your tongue,' her father says,
'And let be a' your sorrow;
I'll wed you to a better lord
Than him you lost on Yarrow.'

'O haud your tongue, father,' she says,
'Far warse ye make my sorrow;
A better lord could never be
Than him that lies on Yarrow.'

She kiss'd his lips, she kaimed his hair,
As aft she'd dune before, O;
And there with grief her heart did break
Upon the banks o' Yarrow.

poem by Anonymous
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The Braes O' Yarrow

Late at e'en, drinking the wine,
And ere they paid the lawing,
They set a combat them between,
To fight it in the dawing.
'What though ye be my sister's lord
We'll cross our swords to-morrow.'
'What though my wife your sister be,
I'll meet ye then on Yarrow.'
'O stay at hame, my ain gude lord!
O stay, my ain dear marrow!
My cruel brither will you betray
On the dowie banks of Yarrow.'