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Haiku #18

Posted: 26 January 2014

After last week's serialisation of Tam O'Shanter, and for those of you who may have missed it, here is a recap in haiku form.

Drunken Tam gaun hame
Runs frae Cutty Sark but Meg
Sacrificed her tail.

Bill Adair

Poem for the Day

Posted: 25 January 2014

Of a' the airts the wind can blaw, I dearly love the west,
For there the bonnie lassie lives, the lassie I love best.
There wild woods grow, and rivers row, wi' monie a hill between,
Day and night my fancy's flight is ever wi' my Jean.

I see her in the dewy flowers sae lovely, fresh and fair.
I hear her in ilka bird wi' music charms the air.
There's not a bonny flower that springs by fountain, shaw, or green,
There's not a bonny bird that sings, but minds me o' my Jean.

Blaw, blaw ye wastlin' winds blaw saft amang the leafy trees.
Wi' gentle gale frae hill and vale bring hame the laden bees.
And bring the lassie back tae me that's aye sae neat and clean
One smile frae her would banish care, sae lovely is my Jean.

What sighs and vows amang the knowes have passed between us twa.
How fain to meet, how wae to part the day she gaed awa.
The powers abune can only ken to whom this heart is seen,
Nane can be sae dear tae me as my sweet lovely Jean.

Of a' the Airts
Robert Burns

Poem for the Day

Posted: 24 January 2014

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unus'd to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe,
And moan th' expense of many a vanish'd sight;
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restor'd, and sorrows end.

When To The Sessions of Sweet Silent Thought (Sonnet #30)
William Shakespeare

Poem for the Day

Posted: 24 January 2014

Chaos ruled OK in the classroom
as bravely the teacher walked in
the nooligans ignored him
hid voice was lost in the din

"The theme for today is violence
and homework will be set
I'm going to teach you a lesson
one that you'll never forget"

He picked on a boy who was shouting
and throttled him then and there
then garrotted the girl behind him
(the one with grotty hair)

Then sword in hand he hacked his way
between the chattering rows
"First come, first severed" he declared
"fingers, feet or toes"

He threw the sword at a latecomer
it struck with deadly aim
then pulling out a shotgun
he continued with his game

The first blast cleared the backrow
(where those who skive hang out)
they collapsed like rubber dinghies
when the plug's pulled out

"Please may I leave the room sir?"
a trembling vandal enquired
"Of course you may" said teacher
put the gun to his temple and fired

The Head popped a head round the doorway
to see why a din was being made
nodded understandingly
then tossed in a grenade

And when the ammo was well spent
with blood on every chair
Silence shuffled forward
with its hands up in the air

The teacher surveyed the carnage
the dying and the dead
He waggled a finger severely
"Now let that be a lesson" he said

The Lesson
Roger McGough

Poem for the Day

Posted: 24 January 2014

I have been here before,
But when or how I cannot tell:
I know the grass beyond the door,
The sweet keen smell,
The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.

You have been mine before,—
How long ago I may not know:
But just when at that swallow's soar
Your neck turned so,
Some veil did fall,—I knew it all of yore.

Has this been thus before?
And shall not thus time's eddying flight
Still with our lives our love restore
In death's despite,
And day and night yield one delight once more?

Sudden Light
Dante Gabriel Rossetti

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