Our Favourite Subject
Let us discuss our weather,
For it's what we English do,
Sometimes it pours, hell for leather,
And sometimes the sky is blue.
It is forever changing,
The forecast can be dire,
And temperatures can be ranging,
From cold to hot as fire.
We moan, when it is sizzling,
We moan, when it's cold and raw,
We moan, when it is drizzling,
And when it's snowing, even more.
It is our favourite subject,
Talked of from morn till night,
We never know what to expect,
Whether Centigrade or Fahrenheit.
With winds that blow and bluster,
And snow that can coat the ground,
Blizzards too, which will muster
In drifts. Then all becomes snowbound.
It's a great topic that is easy,
When getting a conversation to start,
One can talk about stormy or breezy,
Then go on to a real heart to heart.
Let us discuss the weather,
For it's what we English do,
It puts us at the end of our tether,
Yet it's something we have to pursue.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Free And Easy
If life was free and easy
what would we have to moan about,
and if we didn’t moan
what would we talk about.
Conversation would dry up
day after day.
What a boring world it would be,
if we couldn’t moan
about something now and then.
31 January 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whinin' Boy Moan
Van Morrison
Exile Publishing Ltd / Universal Music Publishing Ltd
Drop that coin right into the slot
Get it whether you're ready or not
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Well they call him Mr. Jellyroll
It's just the way he rolls his dough
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Well let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Cos he can do it better, better than anyone else
Whine, whine, whine, whine
All the winos down on Market Street
Roll on over to old North Beach
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Well he gonna sing and play for you
Exactly what he's s'pposed to do
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Whine, whine, whine
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Cos he can do it better, better than anyone else
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Cold Winter's Day
The weather cold and overcast in the middle of July
And cold jack frost blows with his chilly breath across the Winter sky
And in Kyneton, Trentham and Daylesford they have had a fall of snow
And the temperatures at zero and the weather glass is low
From Spring through Summer to late Fall the weather warm and dry
And for days on end the sun was burning in the clear blue sky
But the rain and snow is needed now and people pray for more
For the paddocks at this time of year never dry as this before
Yet today I saw a magpie despite the Wintery chill
Fly from the ground to a tall gum tree with a twig in his bill
For to build a nest an early sign of the approach of Spring
Of late in the darkness of the night I hear his kin bird sing
In parts of Central Victoria it is snowing, cattle bellowing for hay
And the cold breath of jack frost in the wind it has been a chilly day.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Victoria's Weather
On fifth day of September five days into the Spring
The currawongs the birds of rain on the high gum trees sing
And weather back to Winter change and chill the breezes blow
And it's been hailing all the day and cold enough to snow.
In latter days of Winter the weather nice and fine
And morning paddocks gray with frost that melted in sunshine
And temperatures rose through the day to near twenty degrees
And warmth in the sunshine and warmth in the breeze.
Victoria's weather changes quick it's always been that way
And a heavy shower of cold Spring hail has left the garden gray
A high of five a low of two that's what the forecast say
In the only place that you will get four Seasons in one day.
The currawongs the birds of rain sing on the tall gum trees
On this the coldest day of Spring it's only five degrees
And through the wood on Selby hill the chilly breezes blow
And it's been hailing all the day and cold enough to snow.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't You Hear Jerusalem Moan
Don't You Hear Jerusalem Moan
Don't you hear Jerusalem moan?
Don't never let a chicken get big enough to crow
Don't you hear Jerusalem moan?
Don't you hear Jerusalem moan?
Don't you hear Jerusalem moan?
Thank God there's a heaven and a ringing in my soul and my soul's got free
Don't you hear Jerusalem moan?
Well a hard-shell preacher you can tell him how he do
Well he chews his own tobacco and he drinks his own brew.
Well a Baptist preacher you can tell him by his coat
Has a bottle in his pocket that he can't hardly tote
Well a Cambellite preacher his soul is saved
Well he has to be baptized every other day
Well the Holy Roller preacher he sure is a sight
Well he gets em all a-rolling and he kicks out the light
Well the Presbyterian preacher he lives in town
His neck's so stiff he can't hardly look around.
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Romance of Winter
It looks like snow, it must be snow, it really, really feels like snow,
It's on my lashes, and on my nose, it's frozen my poor little toe,
It came too soon, last too late, right now I cannot find my gate,
Inside now what a soppy state, this thawing out I really hate,
The fire it seems is getting low, it only adds more to my woe,
Outside it's cold with winters glow, as now the wind begins to blow.
On with boots, gloves, coat, and hat, out to the barn to feed the cat,
In this weather he won't get fat, but neither will he catch a rat.
The cows are full of milk today, the sheep have now begun to bay,
Chicks get corn, to cold to lay, the donkey's cross he wants his hay,
My husbands says it's no big deal, and checks the oven for his meal,
My coat and gloves I start to peel, where has he been thru this ordeal?
He loves the winter's charming feel, in an office warm... get real.
The snow for me has lost apeal, the charm has fled, from this deal.
Where is summer's warming sun, no more snow, I've had my fun,
Winter's romance has faded and run, now all I want is to be done.
But it looks like snow, it feels like snow,
Oh poo, it really is more snow...
poem by Teresa Dearing
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let Them Groan In a Free Moan Zone
Let them groan in a free moan zone to do it!
Disputing this with resistance...
Will only satisfy their cries and sighs.
They seek to blame another,
For their blunders initiated undercover.
And wish to dump this as their custom.
As has been done to keep folks stunned.
Let them groan in a free moan zone!
If you don't,
They'll see to it...
This will not be done alone.
Pamper them like the children they are.
The children who play and inflict their own scars.
Let them bleed without a rescue heeding.
And destroy themselves by their own annoyance...
With the sight of their own imperfections seething.
Perhaps then they will get the point!
Their own madness created has left them disjointed!
And leave them alone...
In a free moan zone to do it.
If you don't,
The haunting they'll pursue will last forever.
With 'someone' to depict as their enemy!
And 'this' has been their expertise.
Leave them alone...
In their own free moan zone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Doves
The house where I was born,
Where I was young and gay,
Grows old amid its corn,
Amid its scented hay.
Moan of the cushat dove,
In silence rich and deep;
The old head I love
Nods to its quiet sleep.
Where once were nine and ten
Now two keep house together;
The doves moan and complain
All day in the still weather.
What wind, bitter and great,
Has swept the country's face,
Altered, made desolate
The heart-remembered place ?
What wind, bitter and wild,
Has swept the towering trees
Beneath whose shade a child
Long since gathered heartease ?
Under the golden eaves
The house is still and sad,
As though it grieves and grieves
For many a lass and lad.
The cushat doves complain
All day in the still weather;
Where once were nine or ten
But two keep house together.
poem by Katharine Tynan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Talk About Love
Talking real world, all that pain
Try to fix it still comes out the same
Get down to rosies
Wont you pull that plug
Last week
Someone made a mess of that rug
Talking big house way up town
One day one day
Ill put the money down
All that baby talk its for the birds
Lets make some honey
Honey in so many words
Oh no
Dont want a serious conversation
I just want to get you serious
Serious
I want to talk about love
You talk about the weather
Rain or snow
Talking cold wind
The way its going to blow
Talking good times night and day
Talk talk a stronger man
Could lose his way
Aphrodite now theres a girl
Good good loving
She spreads around the world
Forget your dancing all that boogaloo
Drag that purse over here
I got to talk to you
Oh no
Dont want a serious conversation
I just want to get you serious
Serious
I want to talk about love
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Its Easy To Blame The Weather
Sammy cahn / saul chaplin
Honestly Im glad its snowing
It helps to keep our friends from knowing
When they ask me why Im sad
Its easy to blame the weather
Its funny how the blinding snow flakes
Are right in time to hide my heartache
Let them ask me why Im sad
Its easy to blame the weather
When I think of the sun
It scares me
I wonder if I will pass
And springtime, I hear
Is early this year
Theyll see through me like glass
I see no reason for this weather
So let me be the first to make up
If a reason must be had
Its easy to blame the weather
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shivery
This cold cold weather, bids me not
to energetic spree
I stand and shiver, wondering how
To warm that cold cold me
If only I could make a start
It would not be bad it seems.
But somehow I just linger on
And do it, in my dreams.
My ideas are brilliant
They are plain to see
But ho, this cold cold weather
Does waste my time for me.
Daddy
He has an apetite for sex and cash
He hangs on the corner talking trash
Or rollin' in his freak mobile
Mercedes Benz on 20 inch wheels
Gets calls all day on his cellular phone
From nasty girls they won't leave him alone
He's got 'em crying 'cuz they can't see
Why he's in love with a girl like me
Innocent, kinda polite
The kind of girl that says her prayers at night
He picks me up everyday from school
And all my friends they just dream and drool
Then on the way the music blasts
We hittin' the street he lets off the gas
But just before my house appears
He pulls over, whispers in my ear
Hey lil' momma let me in your world
I just wanna see you be a nasty girl
I said love you up and love you down
Daddy wanna make love all around the town
And scream
Come moan and moan and moan
Come moan and moan and scream
Come moan and moan and moan
And take it back girl
My mom has met - my dad refused
Yesterday he bought me some shoes
Dolce and Gabbana and a bag made of iguana
And a blazer and a chocolate tie
Get it blaze chocolate tie
So this kept on and it kept on
Like the beat don't stop until the break of dawn
I can't help it
I just love the boy
I just love the boy
Wait a minute
Oh, I can't help it
I just love the boy
I just love the boy
Oh no
I got shinin' things like diamond rings
And designer chains man the way I bling
Had teachers in school calling home
Mr and Mrs Nice, what the hell is goin on?
I snatched a letter from your daughters desk
From her bad boy friend who was talking fresh
How he wants to see her later today
Face to face so he could say
Hey lil' momma let me in your world
I just wanna see you be a nasty girl
I said love you up and love you down
Daddy wanna make love all around the town
And scream
Come moan and moan and moan
Come moan and moan and scream
Come moan and moan and moan
And take it back girl
But you gotta know that the dough comes first
Gotta know know if you stray then no
There are no words
My look, I see it in your face, Oh look
Thought I was a nice guy, huh, No look
You say you never leave me love
Well are you sure that it's me you love?
Gotta ask 'cuz I can't tell
If it's me or the B12
Hell its suspect
Would you swallow my pride
Now let's ride
I can't help it
I just love the boy
I just love the boy
Wait a minute
Oh, I can't help it
I just love the boy
I just love the boy
Oh no
I can't help it
I just love the boy
I just love the boy
Wait a minute
Oh, I can't help it
I just love the boy
I just love the boy
Oh no
I can't help myself
I just love the boy
I love the boy
I can't help it
song performed by by Kelis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Golden Game
If ever there was a Golden Game
To brace the nerves, to cure repining,
To put the Dumps to flight and shame,
It's Cricket when the sun is shining!
Gentlemen, toss the foolscap by,
Gentlemen, change from books to leather!
Breathe your fill of the breeze from the hill,
Thanking Bliss for the great blue weather.
If ever there was a bag could beat
The box possessed by Miss Pandora,
'Tis that in which there cuddle neat
The tools to shape the flying Fourer.
Gentlemen, watch the purple ball!
Gentlemen, keep your wits in tether!
Take your joy with the heart of a boy
Under the dome of the big blue weather.
If ever I feel my veins abound
With zealous blood more fit for Twenty,
'Tis when upon the shaven ground
Fair Fortune gives me runs in plenty.
Gentlemen all, while sinews last,
Bat ye, bowl ye, friends together!
Play the play till the end of your day,
Mellowest mates in the big blue weather!
But ever the ancient tale is told,
And History (the jade!) repeated:
By Time, who's never over-bowled,
At last we find ourselves defeated.
Gentlemen all, though stiff we be,
Youth comes along in finest feather,
Just as keen as we all have been
Out on the turf in the great blue weather!
There's ever the deathless solace left-
To gaze at younger heroes smiting,
Of neither grit nor hope bereft,
Up to the end for victory fighting.
Gentlemen all, we taste delight,
Banished now from the stream and heather,
Calm and cool on an old camp-stool,
Watching the game in the big blue weather!
poem by Norman Rowland Gale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Three Seasons
'A cup for hope!' she said,
In springtime ere the bloom was old:
The crimson wine was poor and cold
By her mouth's richer red.
'A cup for love!' how low,
How soft the words; and all the while
Her blush was rippling with a smile
Like summer after snow.
'A cup for memory!'
Cold cup that one must drain alone:
While autumn winds are up and moan
Across the barren sea.
Hope, memory, love:
Hope for fair morn, and love for day,
And memory for the evening grey
And solitary dove.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moaning about the Weather
The sky above is grim and grey;
They say that snow is on its way
But first, the frost will kill the flowers
And rain will pour for hours and hours
Just when we have to walk the dog.
Then planes get grounded by the fog
And after that come wind and gales
And hail and sleet on hills and dales.
The British weather, we complain,
So changeable, is such a pain.
We long for sultry summer sun
But then, again, there's not much fun
When there's too much and we get drought
That's something to complain about
And sunburn, sunstroke, water rations
Start to be the latest fashion.
I wonder if we Brits will ever
Cease to whinge about the weather
But it would really spoil the game
If every day were just the same;
We wouldn't have a chance to moan
And grouse and grumble, gripe and groan.
It's almost like our National sport
To curse the weather; there's a thought!
poem by C. Richard Miles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Four Seasons In One Day
Yesterday it was twenty degrees or so
And this morning it feels cold enough to snow
But Melbourne weather known to be that way
The place you get four Seasons in one day.
In mid morning a heavy shower of rain
And then the warming sun shine out again
And later on the wind blow to a gale
Accompanied by heavy showers of hail.
And quick as the hail storm came it then subside
This Melbourne weather like Jekyll and Hyde
The morning fine could make a sunny day
But will it rain? how can one ever say.
In Melbourne in the early days of Spring
As weather goes you expect anything
The morning fine but take your hat and coat
As four seasons in one day it has been wrote.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The coldest of the cold?
A greedy person’s Cold ambition
Or could it be Cold windy nights
The pureness of Cold clear water
Or the alien aspect of Cold neon lights
The careless Cold shoulder
The unfeeling Cold heart
The curse of Cold nature
Cold hands held apart
Could it be Cold feet
Could it be cold fears
Could it be cold weather
Or icy cold ears
Even above cold blood…
Even above… being apart
My choice of all, above, Would be
the unfeeling…of a cold, cold heart
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Snow Blizzard
Snow is falling
Making it hard to see
The temperature is dropping
To negative digits
Winds are picking up
Swirling snow into piles
Having little finger drifts
Cover the roads
Hiding the ice patches
That are dangerous
To most drivers
Kids are no where
To be found
Only adults
Out on the driveways
With red and blue shovels
Scooping up snow
And throwing it off to the side
These winter storms
That most people fear
Are the cold and miserable
Snow blizzards
poem by Allison Unknown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When They Moan
When they moan...
They are much upset.
And beset in troubled homes.
When they moan...
Storm clouds have arrived.
And they can not hide,
Their groans.
When they moan!
Fed up by the rise of lies,
Told about but denied.
And there is no where to put aside their pride,
When they moan.
With a besetting that upsets them...
In their troubled homes.
And displeasures once unknown are shown.
As they gather to scatter chatter,
That droans.
When they moan.
In voices now condoned,
They moan.
With a groaning shown and known,
From their homes.
Leaving no one left alone,
When the moaning droans.
Aye curumba!
With a groaning shown and known,
From their homes.
Aye curumba!
Leaving no one left alone,
When the moaning droans.
Aye curumba!
In voices now condoned...
They moan.
Aye curumba!
With a groaning shown and known,
From their homes.
Aye curumba!
Leaving no one left alone,
When the moaning droans.
Aye curumba!
In voices now condoned...
They moan.
Aye curumba!
With a groaning shown and known,
When they moan!
Dedicated:
To my Latino brothers and sisters,
experiencing injustices 'anywhere'...
all one day will be well.
Your struggles have not gone unnoticed.
And your contributions are duly noted!
I love you.
~LSP~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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