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Poem for the Day

Posted: 6 May 2014

Of all the girls that are so smart
There's none like pretty Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.
There is no lady in the land
Is half so sweet as Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley....

Her father he makes cabbage-nets,
And through the streets does cry 'em;
Her mother she sells laces long
To such as please to buy 'em:
But sure such folks could ne'er beget
So sweet a girl as Sally!
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in my alley.

When she is by, I leave my work,
I love her so sincerely;
My master comes like any Turk,
And bangs me most severely:
But let him bang his bellyful,
I'll bear it all for Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

Of all the days that's in the week
I dearly love but one day-
And that's the day that comes betwixt
A Saturday and Monday;
For then I'm drest all in my best
To walk abroad with Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

My master carries me to church,
And often am I blamèd
Because I leave him in the lurch
As soon as text is namèd;
I leave the church in sermon-time
And slink away to Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

My master and the neighbours all
Make game of me and Sally,
And, but for her, I'd better be
A slave and row a galley;
But when my seven long years are out,
O, then I'll marry Sally;
O, then we'll wed, and then we'll bed-
But not in our alley!

Sally In Our Alley
Henry Carey

Poem for the Day

Posted: 5 May 2014

There was a man of double deed,
Who sowed his garden full of seed;
When the seed began to grow,
'Twas like a garden full of snow;
When the snow began to melt,
'Twas like a ship without a belt;
When the ship began to sail,
'Twas like a bird without a tail;...
When the bird began to fly,
'Twas like an eagle in the sky;
When the sky began to roar,
'Twas like a lion at my door;
When my door began to crack,
'Twas like a stick across my back;
When my back began to smart,
'Twas like a penknife in my heart;
And when my heart began to bleed,
'Twas death, and death, and death indeed.

There Was a Man of Double Deed
Anonymous

Poem for the Day

Posted: 4 May 2014

Whenever it snowed
Grandma would say
'The angels are having a pillow fight'

Whenever thunder rumbled
She would say
'The angels are rearranging the forniture'
...
Whenever gales rattled the windows
Grandma would say
'The angels are blowing on their hot soup'

Whenever someone died
She would say
'The angels have a new friend to play with'

When Grandma passed away
So did the angels.

Grandma and the Angels
Roger McGough

Haiku for a Sunday Morning #17

Posted: 4 May 2014

It is not enough
To forgive one another;
Forgive yourself too.

Bill Adair

Poem for the Day

Posted: 3 May 2014

Forget Gilbert & Sullivan or Rogers & Hammerstein or Lerner & Lowe or even Lennon & McCartney, here is an absolute priceless wee gem from Clarinda & Sylvander.

Talk not of love, it gives me pain,
For love has been my foe;
He bound me in an iron chain,
And plunged me deep in woe.

But friendship's pure and lasting joys,
My heart was formed to prove; ...
There, welcome win and wear the prize,
But never talk of love.

Your friendship much can make me blest,
O why that bliss destroy?
Why urge the only, one request
You know I will deny?

Your thought, if Love must harbour there,
Conceal it in that thought;
Nor cause me from my bosom tear
The very friend I sought.

Talk Not of Love
Agnes McElhose & Robert Burns

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