On The Grassy Banks
On the grassy banks
Lambkins at their pranks;
Woolly sisters, woolly brothers
Jumping off their feet
While their woolly mothers
Watch by them and bleat.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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A Chill
What can lambkins do
All the keen night through?
Nestle by their woolly mother
The careful ewe.
What can nestlings do
In the nightly dew?
Sleep beneath their mother's wing
Till day breaks anew.
If in a field or tree
There might only be
Such a warm soft sleeping-place
Found for me!
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Many a sheep goes out woolly and comes home shorn.
Big Chief Woolley Bosher
In the land they call the west
On the praries virgin crest
Lived a great man and his braves
And he led them to their graves
Big chief plays with baby son
The work of the indian today is done
Life is easy, life is grand
til there is white man, gun in hand
Started out when settlers came
And built their homes on the indian range
Big chief woolly bosher liked it none
Traded with a bad man for a gun
Big chief looks out at his great land
Locomotive on the prairie stands
Life that leak from the city in the east
Let us destroy that iron beast
Big chief rides on the trail tonight
Tread the land for which he must fight
In their fight for love and glory
Some indians were saved
They lived to tell the story
And woolly bosher prays
Big chief rides on the trail tonight
Soldier boys marching in the morning light
Bring the guns, bring the bows
Lets blow them into heaven lets see if God knows
One hundred men must have to die
When a thousand soldiers look you in the eye
Big chief sees his men fall round
The soldiers kill and the bugle sounds
In their fight for love and glory
No indians were saved
And big chief woolly bosher
Had written on his grave
He has done no wrong
Except being bold
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A cape made of wool
Not for elegance but warmth
Oscar Wilde frowns
Woolly socks and winter boots
I`m a jobbing poet
tanka by Oskar Hansen
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If somebody's pointing a trembling finger at your pants and saying you shouldn't be doing that, follow that finger back, go up the arm and look at the head that's behind it, because there's almost always something fairly woolly in there.
quote by Jock Sturges
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Uncle Eighty
I was then a little lass sweet
In mama's warmth replete
The midnight blue fascinated me
With mama's arms around me
Later that little me
Grew along iridescent dreams yummy
Imbued with a woolly-woolly sweater
Fascinatingly in midnight-blue colour
A gift of yonder lore
Filially given to adore
Booming and booming to soar
Up the sky affectionately to score
That sweater got itself unravelled
Endearingly outflowing behind
To this day closely to me continuously
Caressess my mind to linger on
Your special affection on and on
Unending strands of love and care
You hold to knit for me I'm aware
Brighter than thousand counts of moon
Your love is ardent and sheen
And that alone this niece does ever mean
A life of eight decades
With a hopeful heart of upgrades...
You simply stand out with excellence
Holding a holy codex of your life-experience
Indeed an exemplar luminous
Let flow those unravelled endearing strands
Pass on their way through ever your blessings
Many more returns of this nascent gaiety
Wishing you is niece sixty
On your birth-day eighty
poem by Indira Renganathan
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White Sunshine
The sun's my fire.
Golden, from a magnificence of blue,
Should be its hue.
But woolly clouds,
Like boarding-house old ladies, come and sit
In front of it.
White sunshine, then,
That has the frosty glimmer of white hair,
Freezes the air.
They must forget,
So self-absorbed are they, so very old,
That I'll be cold.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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Delicate Cluster
DELICATE cluster! flag of teeming life!
Covering all my lands! all my sea-shores lining!
Flag of death! (how I watch'd you through the smoke of battle
pressing!
How I heard you flap and rustle, cloth defiant!)
Flag cerulean! sunny flag! with the orbs of night dappled!
Ah my silvery beauty! ah my woolly white and crimson!
Ah to sing the song of you, my matron mighty!
My sacred one, my mother.
poem by Walt Whitman
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Spring Is Finally Here! - By Kitty Cotton (My Great Niece) Aged 11 (Set of three poems)
Finally we see the silk blue sky,
Finally we hear the birds sing a joyful twitter,
Now we see the sun set in the orange ocean,
Now we hear the loud combine.
The weak woolly lambs run in the sun,
The smell of cut grass wafts up my nose,
No more dark clouds hovering above us,
No more cold deep puddles.
Let’s enjoy the rest of spring,
Let’s watch the orange sapphire set.
For spring is finally here!
© Kitty Cotton
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Winter Complaint
Now when I have a cold
I am careful with my cold,
I consult a physician
And I do as I am told.
I muffle up my torso
In woolly woolly garb,
And I quaff great flagons
Of sodium bicarb.
I munch on aspirin,
I lunch on water,
And I wouldn’t dream of osculating
Anybody’s daughter,
And to anybody’s son
I wouldn’t say howdy,
For I am a sufferer
Magna cum laude.
I don’t like germs,
But I’ll keep the germs I’ve got.
Will I take a chance of spreading them?
Definitely not.
I sneeze out the window
And I cough up the flue,
And I live like a hermit
Till the germs get through.
And because I’m considerate,
Because I’m wary,
I am treated by my friends
Like Typhoid Mary.
Now when you have a cold
You are careless with your cold,
You are cocky as a gangster
Who has just been paroled.
You ignore your physician,
You eat steaks and oxtails,
You stuff yourself with starches,
You drink lots of cocktails,
And you claim that gargling
Is a time of waste,
And you won’t take soda
For you don’t like the taste,
And you prowl around parties
Full of selfish bliss,
And greet your hostess
With a genial kiss.
You convert yourself
Into a deadly missle,
You exhale Hello’s
Like a steamboat wistle.
You sneeze in the subway
And you cough at dances,
And let everybody else
Take their own good chances.
You’re a bronchial boor,
A bacterial blighter,
And you get more invitations
Than a gossip writer.
Yes, your throat is froggy,
And your eyes are swimmy,
And you hand is clammy,
And you nose is brimmy,
But you woo my girls
And their hearts you jimmy
While I sit here
With the cold you gimmy.
poem by Ogden Nash
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Upon the Road to Rockabout
Upon the road to Rockabout
I came upon some sheep -
A large and woolly flock about
As wide as it was deep.
I was about to turn about
To ask the man to tell
Some things I wished to learn about
Both sheep and wool as well,
When I beheld a rouseabout
Who lay upon his back
Beside a little house about
A furlong from the track.
I had a lot to talk about,
And said to him "Good day."
But he got up to walk about,
And so I went away -
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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A Flower To Auroville Mother-87
Woolly Camphor-Weed(Kolumpu-ver,
Pluchea ovalis, Pluchea tomentosa)
My craze is wild
Hunting all flora
Minding even weeds
You attracted me
Pluchea though tiny
Blossoming buddy even
Winging leaves oblong
Lanceshaped obovate
Velvety base upping
To catchy flower-corymb
Something that's inviting
Though a beauty so mild..
poem by Indira Renganathan
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The New Symphony Sid
Symphony sid is grooving
Man this whole house is moving
Symphony sid is grooving
Symphony sid
Symphony sid is swinging
That radio is ringing
Symphony sid is swinging
Symphony sid
Bing-bang bing-bang bing-bang ...
Bing-bing-bing-bang ...
Symphony sid is jumping
Man this whole house is romping
Symphony sid is jumping
Symphony sid
Tune in and listen
Check out what youre missin
Youre finally close to eighty
On the dot
Some say hes the greatest
One thing is assured
When youre the latest
Youre gonna be hoppin and boppin round the future
All your friends will be knockin on your door
When sidney plays his swingin music, catch it you should take up the
Season you feel the temperature risin
Yeah man the radio is hot, youd never want to stop
Spinning like a little red top, all over town
Now, sisters and brothers, fathers and mothers dig in
Watch this, put em down
Bing-bang bing-bang bing-bang ...
Bing-bing-bing-bang ...
Symphony sid is jumping
Man this whole house is romping
Symphony sid is jumping
Symphony sid
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tell It All Brother
Tell it all brother, before we fall
Tell it all brothers and sisters
Tell it all.
How much you're holding back on me
When you say you're giving all?
And in the dungeons of your mind
Who you got chained to the wall?
Tell it all brother, before we fall
Tell it all brothers and sisters
Tell it all.
Did you plant your feet on higher ground
To avoid life's mud and stone?
Did you ever kick a good man
When he was down, just to make yourself feel strong?
Tell it all brother, before we fall
Tell it all brothers and sisters
Tell it all.
Tomorrow just might be too late
Now is the time
To get your jumbled mind straight
And seek a new design.
Did you ever walk for a crippled man
Pretending you were lame?
And what made you think one feeble hand to God
Was gonna make him call your name?
Tell it all brother and sisters
Tell, Tell it all
Tell it all brother, before we fall
Tell it all brothers and sisters, tell
Tell it all brother, before we fall
Tell it all...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Day in Bed
I wish I had not got a cold,
The wind is big and wild,
I wish that I was very old,
Not just a little child.
Somehow the day is very long
Just keeping here, alone;
I do not like the big wind's song,
He's growling for a bone
He's like an awful dog we had
Who used to creep around
And snatch at things--he was so bad,
With just that horrid sound.
I'm sitting up and nurse has made
Me wear a woolly shawl;
I wish I was not so afraid;
It's horrid to be small.
It really feels quite like a day
Since I have had my tea;
P'raps everybody's gone away
And just forgotten me.
And oh! I cannot go to sleep
Although I am in bed.
The wind keeps going creepy-creep
And waiting to be fed.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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Further he lies silent
When with his long fur coat
he comes and lies on my lap
and look at me with golden eyes
with black pupils,
his front paws tread softly
while he makes a nest for himself.
There’s a purr sound
coming from his throat
and further he lies silent
while my fingers
stroke his head
and woolly ginger stomach
and two paws
gather my hand at times
like only my serval can
[Reference: Ginger persian cat here referred to as a serval.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Shiver
As the sun set in the west
the holes became more evident
as I pulled on my woolly vest
and the cold air rushed through
to chill my boobs.
I shivered in the dying sunlight
as I rooted around for
my thread bare jacket.
All the time the wind
howled with a chuckle
over the predicament I was in.
I retreated to the safety
of my straw filled bed
that collapsed upon the floor
as I rested down my head.
Then the roof caved in
and the stars looked down
with the moon and smiled
at this fool that laid there
shivering with his boobs turning blue.
24 September 2010
poem by David Harris
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Also Love Those Foreign Others
Your world view.
And my world view,
Are two world views...
With many more too!
And their world view.
Is not our world view.
But unlike you...
Regardless of what's in our minds to think.
We ought to get together.
Respect our sisters and our mothers.
Our fathers and our distant brothers.
And also love those foreign others,
To us.
Who are like sisters and our brothers.
To us.
We've got to one day get together.
And not fuss.
To make our lives together better.
Your world view.
And my world view,
Are two world views...
With many more too!
And their world view.
Is not our world view.
But unlike you...
Regardless of what's in our minds to think.
We ought to get together.
Respect our sisters and our mothers.
Our fathers and our distant brothers.
And also love those foreign others,
To us.
Who are like sisters and our brothers,
To us.
We've got to one day get together.
And not fuss.
To make our lives together better.
Loving with a trust.
Respect the sisters and the mothers.
Do it we must.
Our fathers and our distant brothers.
Do it we must.
And also love those foreign others,
To us.
Who are like sisters and our brothers.
We trust.
We've got to one day get together.
We must.
To make our lives together better.
We must.
To make our lives together better.
We must.
To make our lives together better.
We must!
Together.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Trust
T rust given should not be deceived,
R eturning gold for loss, dross rotten,
U ndying oath discard forgotten
S hames all, mistaken, who perceived
T hat understanding interleaved
T enderness which woolly cotton
R obed round reality ill-gotten.
U ntrue to principles some leave
S hards shattered where once mirror weave
T hread heart to heart not mis-begotten,
T orn apart, betrayed, foul flotten,
R egrets remaining, paining peeves.
U nbelieved apologies
STrung through spun lines no conscience frees.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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You's Sweet to Yo' Mammy de Same
(Lullaby)
Shet yo' eyes, ma little pickaninny, go to sleep
Mammy's watchin' by you all de w'ile;
Daddy is a-wukin' down in de cott'n fiel',
Wukin' fu' his little honey child.
An' yo' mammy's heart is jes a-brimmin' full o' lub
Fu' you f'om yo' head down to yo' feet;
Oh, no mattah w'at some othah folks may t'ink o' you,
To yo' mammy's heart you's mighty sweet.
You's sweet to yo' mammy jes de same;
Dat's why she calls you Honey fu' yo' name.
Yo' face is black, dat's true,
An' yo' hair is woolly, too,
But, you's sweet to yo' mammy jes de same.
Up der in de big house w'ere dey lib so rich an' gran'
Dey's got chillen dat dey lubs, I s'pose;
Chillen dat is purty, oh, but dey can't lub dem mo'
Dan yo' mammy lubs you, heaben knows!
Dey may t'ink you's homely, an' yo' clo'es dey may be po',
But yo' shinin' eyes, dey hol's a light
Dat, my Honey, w'en you opens dem so big an' roun',
Makes you lubly in yo' mammy's sight.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
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