Goose fair for my new friend baylei
A regiment of honking geese,
disturb the early morning peace.
As they are driven to the fair
by girls with flowers in their hair.
The goose fair is the great event
and the excitement's evident.
As Farmers, wives and serving maids
and hucksters join the great parade.
Small tinkers carts of pots and pans.
Dispute the way with caravans
of gypsy families who meet
at the goose fair. Where they compete
with local merchants. They all try
to persuade fair goers to buy.
The fairings that they have for sale
gilt gingerbread and bottled ale.
Hair ribands of every hue.
“golden” rings and brooches too
At least that’s what the hucksters say.
As they attempt to make you pay.
much more than what their wares are worth.
A cause to wiser heads for mirth.
But the young will not be told
that all that glistens is not gold.
It would be wasting time to try
to persuade them not to buy.
What they perceive to be bargains.
Excitement has addled their brains.
There stands a stall of pewter ware
The finest value at the fair
with pots and plates of every size.
The pewtersmith does not tell lies.
There’s something to suit every taste.
Be quick, be quick no time to waste
The merchants cry in unison
your only chance will soon be gone.
There’s games to play to test your skills
and fat quack doctors selling pills.
Which they’re prepared to guarantee
will cure your every malady.
Your rotten tooth you can have out.
The dentist knows what he’s about
He does not claim it is pain free
but pulls it out efficiently.
There’s stalls of boots and stalls of shoes
which make it difficult to choose
from whom you’ll buy your merchandise
Prepared to haggle over price
You have to have the cash to pay
for anything you buy today.
This simple rule to everyone applies.
And woe betide the fool who tries
To steal the goods he cannot buy.
For they will raise the hue and cry.
The baying crowd will join the chase
the thief will find no hiding place.
They will harass him mercilessly
until he’s caught eventually.
Then he’ll be locked away to wait
his trial by the magistrate.
He has been beaten black and blue
as angry crowds are wont to do
He faces transportation
or even execution.
If valued at twelve pence or more
then only death will pay the score.
If it is less he will sent
to some far distant settlement.
Where he must labour for the time
that was thoughtmete to fit his crime.
The angry crowd have had their fun
and soon forget what they have done.
They drift away as twilight falls
completely deaf now to the calls
of merchant who still have goods to sell.
They make for home with tales to tell.
The merchants must remove their stalls
although outside the city walls
They must be gone by break of day
or they will have a fee to pay.
The fair is over for this year.
The finest Goose Fair anywhere.
The local worthies proudly boast
about the Goose Fair which they host.
It has been held for centuries
and still today it guarantees
a fun filled day for families
Although today you see few geese.
3-Jul-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The farmer and his wife (Sestina)
A girl was lying down flat on her back
with a straw hat at eye height over hair,
she was sun-struck, curling and fair
with a rain cloud ominous and black
drifting in a blue sky and a small track
meandering past and it needed some repair.
Some of your makeup is in need of repair,
there’s a guitar bag slung over your back
where you walk pass the girl at the dirt track
with the strong wind frizzling through your hair
and the sky is already turning black
but the evening up to now is fair.
Slowly you walk past the local fair
with some of the stalls needing repair,
the guitar you are carrying is black
and you walk straight on, do not look back
at the whistles of some men with long hair
while home you take a narrow long track.
Watching our horses on the racetrack
you are really sexy and very fair,
our horses do parade with shining hair
you notice that the stands need some repair
and I am standing somewhat at your back
while you are dressed prettily in black.
The highway is like a ribbon that is black
where it meets the old overgrown farm track,
there are huge blue-gum trees some way back
and you agree that the price of the Lucerne is fair
where some cows graze at the pen, needing repair,
swishing with tails to drive flies from their hair.
I pull my fingers slowly through my hair
and there are streaks of grey in the black,
but the cattle are only doing fair
while my love is coming with the field’s track
that must constantly be kept in repair
and I hear her singing over my back.
There were torn out hair a long time back,
when I met my darling and she was fair,
at a fight at a track, I was in need of repair.
poem by Gert Strydom
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An Ode
WHAT boots it to be great?
To live in royal state
And feast with kings,
Since now all things
One doom await?
5
What boots it to be fair?
Sweet eyes and golden hair,
And youthful bloom,
Since in the tomb
All foulness there?
10
To live in royal state—
That is not to be great;
Sweet eyes and golden hair—
That is not to be fair.
What is it to be great?
15
Content with thine estate;
To serve thy God and King
In everything—
That is it to be great.
What is it to be fair?
20
Sweet modesty to wear;
To keep thine honour sure,
Thy bosom pure—
That is it to be fair.
Much boots it to be great,
25
Much boots it to be fair.
poem by Frederick George Scott
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Forward Planning.
God rest ye greedy merchants all.
The time has come when you display
the tawdry goods you hope to sell
to foolish folk prepared to pay.
Much more than what your goods are worth.
To give as gifts on Christmas day
Your tills are ringing merrily
in tune with carols which you play
Creating an ambience which
encourages folks to spend.
A great deal more than otherwise
On which your profits will depend.
I have no doubt you’re planning to
make more profits at Easter too.
Saturday,27 November 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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County Fair
Twenty bucks buys ten coupons
Two ears of corn and one ride on
The tilt-a-whirl with your favorite girl
Keep on walking down the midway
Three-eyed goats and games to play
Step right up, Carney says try your luck
You can tell the sweet smell of summer in the air
Whole town shuts down, everybody's gonna be there
Down at the county fair
Big time, big top, big crowds, big hair
There's nothing bigger all around
This country anywhere
Than the county fair
Judging pigs and judging pies
Fighting for the first place prize
And have you seen this year's queen
4-H Club and FFA working toward a better day
And a petting zoo, yeah, they got that too
And eight o'clock rolls around, everybody knows
The grandstands open up and it's time for the big show
Down at the county fair
Big time, big top, big crowds, big hair
There's nothing bigger
In small towns everywhere
Than the county fair
song performed by by Lonestar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Fair Go Of Anyone We Should Not Deny
Those who judge people by their colour or their creed or their race
The spirit of the fair go could never embrace
But eventually the reality they have to face
That in the twenty first century for their sort of thinking there isn't a place.
Of what I say here to all races apply
A fair go of anyone we should not deny
Those who are prejudiced towards others in their ways are small
Long live the great beauty in a fair go for all.
As we know prejudice and racism is only based on ignorance and fear
And of such negative stuff I don't wish to read of or hear
Their thinking is out of touch and it would seem fair to say
That it is out of place in the World of today.
One fact in black, brown and white and facts never lie
Is that we are mere mortals and born to die
And whoever you are you deserve a fair go
And may happiness and luck in your life you do know
poem by Francis Duggan
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Time to Strike
It seems to me necessities
grow more expensive day by day
and at the same time luxuries
cost less than what we used to pay.
The values which we hold today
are not the ones our parents knew
It seems somehow we’ve lost our way.
I am convinced that this is true.
If you can’t pay you should not buy
For credit can put up the price
The crafty merchants have to try
to pay for when they advertise.
The goods for sale we do not need.
So they increase the price of food
Pursuit of profits is their creed.
Yet still they cry misunderstood.
Perhaps its time to call a halt
and force the merchants to review
A system very much at fault
I am afraid unless we do.
Well starve to death in luxury
because we cant afford to eat.
This is not how things ought to be.
I can do nothing but repeat
It seems to me necessities
grow more expensive day by day
and that unneeded luxuries
cost less that what we used to pay.
I find it hard to understand
why we must pay more for our food.
The laws of supply and demand
unless I have misunderstood.
Say necessities should cost less
Than luxuries we do not need
and only purchase to impress.
The merchants know we have to feed.
They do not need to advertise
the foodstuffs which they know we need
but constantly increase the price.
To satisfy their endless greed.
We only have ourselves to blame.
Our apathetic attitude
ensures that we can’t win
Though I am certain that we could
We have the power we could use
to bring the merchants in to line.
If we don’t buy, point blank refuse
except on terms which we define.
They’ll very quickly change their tune
they have to sell
But we wont win if we don’t try
5-Mar-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Tailor made for you for M' lady Dawn Slaker
Dreams for sale, each one brand new.
Created daily fresh for you.
I do not claim my dreams come true
but I am sure that some must do.
The only thing I guarantee
is confidentiality.
If you should choose to buy from me.
There are no prying eyes to see.
The kind of dreams that you prefer
There are no records anywhere
So you can purchase free from care
I pride myself on being fair.
Each dream you buy is tailor made
and of the very highest grade
Well worth the price which you have paid.
I am certain that the will persuade.
Even the hardened sceptics to
return again for something new
I usually find that people do
and truly hope that you will too.
Dreams for sale a vast array
and all are freshly made today.
And if you cant afford to pay
I keep a few to give away.
For dreams are a necessity
whether bought are given free.
you can contact me easily
I live in your vicinity
.
If you should find you need a dream
just send your message by moon beam
The moon and I work as a team
that’s working well a splendid scheme
13-Aug-08.
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Satire II: En Excedent 'Ca Va' (Un Bout de Semiologie) 'Fare Fair' Excess (A Semiological Dig)
'Demandez vous de moi, 'Ca va? '? ' 'Ask of me, 'Fare fair? '? '
'Ca va? ...Ca va? ' 'Fare fair? ...Fare fair? '
'Ca va....Ca va? ' 'Fare fair....Fare fair? '
'Tout va.' 'All fair.'
'Beaucoup trop 'Ca va'.' 'Much too much 'Fare fair'.'
'Un 'Tout va'.' 'One 'All fair'.'
'O! la! la! le temps! ' 'O! la! la! the time! '
'Helas! un n'est pas tout va! ' 'Alas! One is not all fair! '
'Adieu! Mon Dieu! ' 'Good bye! My God! '
'Il est, et est Temps.' 'He is, and is Time.'
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Fiddle Riddle
Once stood a man on my face
Ooh yeah, on my face
Gobbled him up cause my taste
Leaves nothing to waste
Hear the riddle that I say
Hear the riddle that I say
What is fair is fair
That is fair and square
To me
Piano it marks the good pace
Ooh yeah, the good pace
Dont know if its right, but I like the bass
So turn up the bass
Hear the fiddles as they play
Hear the fiddles as they play
What is fair is fair
And the guitar player
No metal, no brick, was no trace
Oh, no, was no trace
But machines moved on and still chased
No particular place
Hear the riddle that I say
Hear the riddle that I say
What is fair is fair
That is fair and square
To me
What is fair is fair
That is fair and square
To me
song performed by by Frank Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad of the Murdered Merchant
All stark and cold the merchant lay,
All cold and stark lay he.
And who hath killed the fair merchant?
Now tell the truth to me.
Oh, I have killed this fair merchant
Will never again draw breath;
Oh, I have made this fair merchant
To come unto his death.
Oh, why hast thou killed this fair merchant
Whose corpse I now behold?
And why hast caused this man to lie
In death all stark and cold?
Oh, I have killed this fair merchant
Whose kith and kin make moan,
For that he hath stolen my precious time
When he useth the telephone.
The telephone bell rang full and clear;
The receiver did I seize.
"Hello!" quoth I, and quoth a girl,
"Hello! . . . One moment, please."
I waited moments ane and twa,
And moments three and four,
And then I sought the fair merchant
And spilled his selfish gore.
That business man who scorneth to waste
His moments sae rich and fine
In calling a man to the telephone
Shall never again waste mine!
And every time a henchwoman
Shall cause me a moment's loss,
I'll forthwith fare to that office
And stab to death her boss.
Rise up! Rise up! thou blesséd knight!
And off thy bended knees!
Go forth and slay all folk who make
Us wait "One moment, please."
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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You Can Make The World To Live In
You Can make the World to live in a far better place
Not for yourself alone but for the whole human race
By treating everyone as your equal if you look you will find
That those different to you in their ways good and kind.
Racism born of ignorance that does seem fair to say
And racists seem out of place in the World of today
In a multicultural World they do not fit in
If you do not show respect then respect you cannot win.
Some people in their small ways are so very small
They believe on a fair go for their own kind but not on a fair go for all
In a multicultural society they have no part to play
They are self defeatist it does seem that way.
We are what we think we are and it does seem to me
That our reflective mirror in others we see
If the spirit of egalatarianism and the fair go for all we embrace
The World for us living in it is a much better place.
poem by Francis Duggan
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It Ain't Fair That It Ain't Right
Writers B. Eggers, J. Eggers
Copyright 1970
It ain't fair for you to leave me cold and cryin' in the night
It ain't fair to take your body from my arms and out of sight
It ain't fair you've gone and left me where you kissed me I still burn
Are you leaving for my loving this awful hurt and then return
It ain't fair for you to leave me alone to face the morning light
It ain't fair you took my body and then to say that it ain't right
It ain't fair you've made me your woman a no longer a good girl in your eyes
How come before you said you'd love me it ain't fair that it ain't right
It just ain't fair that it ain't right
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Party in the Park
Early morning, and the organisers are up with the lark,
Getting ready for this year’s ‘party in the park.’
They set up various stalls and marquees,
And tie coloured bunting between the trees.
Hundreds of people are expected to come,
So they’re really hoping for some summer sun.
A few hours later and the stage is now set.
They’re hoping that this will be the best year yet.
The entertainment all kicks off at twelve noon.
A man walks round selling coloured balloons.
At one stall, a lady paints designs on children’s faces,
While, on stage, a dance troupe go through their paces.
The stallholders are busy selling their wares.
The children enjoy rides at the mini fun fair.
The beer tent proves popular, especially with the men.
Children enjoy activities in the arts and craft den.
There’s a never ending queue of people buying ice creams.
Clutching a soft toy she’s just won, a little girl proudly beams.
In the mobile kitchen, they sell hot-dogs and chunky chips,
Whilst on the griddle, more beef burgers are being flipped.
Also on offer today, are temporary henna tattoos.
At the sweet stall, it’s hard to decide what to choose.
Young girls are having their hair put into pretty braids.
Most of the stallholders are doing a really roaring trade.
Up on the massive, brightly lit stage,
There are various acts, catering for every age.
Some people sit watching on chairs or a rug on the ground;
There are so many people; for a clear space they search around.
Evening time closes in and it soon begins to get dark,
And so to an end, draws this year’s party in the park.
The organisers pack everything away, in the knowledge,
That everyone has enjoyed this really wonderful day.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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O sweet and fair! These words are mine to use
O sweet and fair! These words are mine to use.
O sweet and fair! A year ago I'ld choose
Some better words of praise
Than sweet and fair.
O sweet and fair, and weak, and most untrue!
O sweet and fair! I still may speak of you
After my year of pain
As sweet and fair.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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You Say About Life
You say about life that life for all is fair
You must have been talking to a billionaire
You want to know about life go to Poverty Street
And those who are doing it hard there you will meet.
The homeless and down and outs doing it tough
Without food or shelter obliged to sleep rough
That life for all is fair is so easy to say
For one like you with a good job and great take home pay.
On your philosophies on life I for one don't agree
So why bother waste your time on talking to me
Since I believe life's only fair for a minority
And not for the poor billions in poverty.
Your opinions are your's and that suits me fine
But your views on life are quite different to mine
With a great job, new home and healthy kids and a beautiful young wife
You are not one to be saying of a fair for all life.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Manly Heart
Shall I, wasting in despair,
Die because a woman's fair?
Or my cheeks make pale with care
'Cause another's rosy are?
Be she fairer than the day
Or the flowery meads in May --
If she be not so to me,
What care I how fair she be?
Shall my foolish heart be pined
'Cause I see a woman kind;
Or a well dispos-ed nature
Join-ed with a lovely feature?
Be she meeker, kinder, than
Turtle-dove or pelican,
If she be not so to me,
What care I how kind she be?
Shall a woman's virtues move
Me to perish for her love?
Or her merit's value known
Make me quite forget mine own?
Be she with that goodness blest
Which may gain her name of Best;
If she seem not such to me,
What care I how good she be?
'Cause her fortune seems too high,
Shall I play the fool and die?
Those that bear a noble mind
Where they want of riches find,
Think what with them they would do
Who without them dare to woo;
And unless that mind I see,
What care I though great she be?
Great or good, or kind or fair,
I will ne'er the more despair;
If she love me, this believe,
I will die ere she shall grieve;
If she slight me when I woo,
I can scorn and let her go;
For if she be not for me,
What care I for whom she be?
poem by George Wither
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Sad But The Truth Is On
There are too many bold,
Sad but the truth is on.
And too may all-knowing for their teachers.
Sad but the truth is on.
And they say their teachers can't teach,
Or read, or write to them...
On their lowered levels.
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
Many never knew about a hug to touch.
Sad but the truth is on.
There's just too many needing loving.
Sad but the truth is on.
And they don't believe a lesson taught to them,
Reveals and begins to grow to show.
Sad but the truth is on.
It's so sad but the truth is on.
It's so sad about the truth!
The truth for so many has gone.
It's so sad to see it...
Nonexisting.
Sad but the truth is on.
It's so sad but the truth is on.
It's sad about the truth,
Today!
For so many that truth is gone.
It's so sad today...
That,
People sit back to watch it too!
Sad but the truth is on.
It's so sad but the truth is on.
Everybody's talking about a fairness.
But nothing there is fair.
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
And,
Everything once fair there is gone.
'Cause nothing in the air is fair there!
Everybody's talking about a fairness.
But nothing there is fair.
And,
Everything once fair there is gone.
Because nothing in the air is fair,
There!
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
Everything once fair there is gone.
Because nothing in the air is fair,
There!
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
It's a long and lonely,
Sentimental journey.
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
It's a long and lonely,
Sentimental journey.
Sad but the truth is on.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Amoretti LXXIX: Men Call you Fair
Men call you fair, and you do credit it,
For that your self ye daily such do see:
But the true fair, that is the gentle wit,
And vertuous mind, is much more prais'd of me.
For all the rest, how ever fair it be,
Shall turn to naught and lose that glorious hue:
But only that is permanent and free
From frail corruption, that doth flesh ensue.
That is true beauty: that doth argue you
To be divine, and born of heavenly seed:
Deriv'd from that fair Spirit, from whom all true
And perfect beauty did at first proceed.
He only fair, and what he fair hath made,
All other fair, like flowers untimely fade.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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The Moose and the Goose
The mighty mad moose said to the gentle gliding goose,
“It’s not fair you fly in formation while I suffer much abuse.
Wind and breeze are there as you fly first class.
I’m down here on the ground fighting weeds and grass.”
The flock of geese had just landed for some food and rest,
And here is this mighty mad moose acting like a real pest.
But the head gliding goose had a gentle reply,
“Mighty mad moose you’re upset and I don’t know why.”
“Each year we chart the route for you mighty moose.
We’re the train’s engine, while you have freedom of a caboose.
Pay attention to our direction as we geese pass over;
Then you moose will know the way and have time for clover.”
Sir moose replied, “You fly south for winter and return in spring.
So all I have to do is remember that one important thing.
As I browse through trees and brush, I need to raise my eyes
To see you all as you map our way through the skies.”
The attitude of mighty moose changed from mad to glad,
Since he understood the treasure that he really always had.
As the gentle gliding geese flew off in formation,
Mighty moose smiled and tipped his antlers in appreciation.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Hole In My Head
Hole in my head
hole in my head
I need a boy like you like a hole in my head
I need a boy like you like a hole in my head
Let's just say we will and then don't instead
Wild goose chase
Wild goose chase
You're gonna take me boy on a wild goose chase
You're gonna take me boy on a wild goose chase
You better find somebody to take my place
You took my imagination and stomped it inthe ground
Now I can only think about you
chasin' the tracks that you left around
Hole in my head
hole in my head
Oh I need a boy like you like a hole in my head
I need a boy like you like a hole in my head
You make me feel so bad that I wish I was dead
Let the games begin
Yeah here I go again
I'm never gonna win
It must have knocked me crazy
it must have hit me hard
People must think I'm lazy
Like my shuffle's short
of playing a card
Wild goose chase
Wild goose chase
Oh I need a boy like you
like a wild goose chase
I need a boy like you
like a wild goose chase
You better find somebody to take my place
Let the games begin
Yeah here I go again
I need a boy like you (I need a boy like you)
I need a boy like you (I need a boy like you)
I need a boy like you
Like a hole in my head
Hole in my head
Hole in my head
Hole in my head
Hole in my head
Like a hole in my head
I need a boy like you (I need a boy like you)
I need a boy like you (I need a boy like you)
song performed by by Dixie Chicks from Fly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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