sublime my paintings, memory be
lost in time, I now must see
where once the gale winds trembled chill
wrapped in blankets, remember still
a touch, a kiss, the summer sun
from deep within, must now be spun
I frolic to and fro in time
my brush, alas..... can only mime
I still can hear cicadas' whine
but yearn for yellow celandine
tho memories fade, my spirit thrives
aflush! my paintings will survive!
Copyright © James Marshall Goff | Year Posted 2009
A new borns cry
Tearful last good bye
Swaying waves of golden prairie grass
Shifting desert dunes - an hour glass
An acorn dropping among forest leaves
To mighty oak - a lifetime of dreams
The changing moon - to full again
Each morn' the sun - new skies begin
Eagles soar high - our hearts go there
These ripples in time - we all share
Copyright © Donna Jones | Year Posted 2013
The innocence lost so long ago
The undying faith we used to know
The gentle rain of a summer's skies
You can find it all in your child's eyes.
The world was right one time it seems
And we could reach beyond our dreams
To meet a challenge of any size
That fire still burns in your child's eyes.
In a world of anger and miscontent
And the frustrations of a life misspent
And you wait in fear as the storms arise
You can still find peace in your child's eyes.
Take the time for all those things
Hear his words: feel the joy he brings
There is no hate; there are no lies
There is only love in your child's eyes.
Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2006
For the lark she sings in her morning song,
That brightens up my day.
The pitter patter of tiny drops,
Clouds fill the sky with grey.
The dampened ground, that familiar smell,
Now quenched refreshed anew.
Brings forth forgotten memories,
Of a time that I once new.
Like grains of sand they ebb and flow,
Those minutes of the day.
In lines of endless moments,
That brought forth that child at play.
For is this just like déjà vu
For some time I’ve been alone.
Now standing here now humble,
To all these things I’ve known.
With gentle face a youthful pose,
As we danced the night away,
A tender touch a knowing gaze,
No need for words to say.
For what is love but a feeling?
As hearts melt into one.
With the blessings of good fortune,
Now Care free and full of fun.
For they say that hopes eternal,
And all things come to he who waits.
Or is that for other people,
For nothing seems that straight.
Given in reflected thought,
To those oh so special years.
Brought back in just a heart beat,
I wipe away the tears.
© N windle
Copyright © nicholas windle | Year Posted 2014
Ride with me on my time machine to a different time and place
Return with me and let me see if I can put a smile upon your face
To the days of AM radio and the TV was black and white
To lying in a grassy field and counting stars at night
Popcorn and soda in the balcony at a Saturday matinee
Parades led by the High School Band on Decoration Day
Dressing up and going door to door on the night of Halloween
Cigarettes rolled in your shirt, pretending to be James Dean
Pep rallies before the football games, everybody stand and cheer
Going in the woods with your friends at night, sharing a quart of beer
That feeling inside, turning red, when she smiled at you at the dance
Wanting to kiss her goodnight, but you were afraid to take a chance
Playing chase tag at night in the neighborhood, hiding behind a tree
Holding hands with your first steady, so all your friends could see
Medicine Show at the end of town in a giant canvas tent
Saving pennies for a rainy day, fasting on candy for Lent
Going for a Sunday ride with Mom and Dad in the family car
Playing in the yard at night, putting lightning bugs in a jar
Drag racing on that long stretch of road, Chevy was hard to beat
Stealing peaches from a neighbor’s tree, always seemed so sweet
Riding bikes all over town, never knowing the meaning of fear
Identifying cars by their tail lights, make and model and year
News and Stooges at the theatre before the movie starts
Valentine’s day I love you written on tiny candy hearts
Easter bonnets and picking flowers for Mom on Mother’s Day
Opening day at the community pool the last weekend in May
Sock hop in the auditorium, collar up, trying to play it cool
Meeting friends at the usual place, everyday after school
Six for a quarter on the juke box, music that would move your soul
Return with me now to those glory days and the birth of rock and roll.
Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2009
Sometimes life is such a bore we run on automatic;
Then it’s time to tango for a dash of the dramatic.
Or when things are dull and only gusto will suffice,
We cha-cha or calypso to inject a dose of spice.
We hustle off to work each morning, foxtrot through the day
And hope that time’s electric slide just melts the hours away.
At clock-out time we say goodbye and jitterbug on out;
We hokey-pokey home because that’s what it’s all about.
Some easy days we waltz on by; we’re caught up in the swing
And lindy-hop or tap our way through all that life can bring.
We may go round in circles or, to deal with our despair,
Find someone we can partner with and do-so-do with flair.
For life is like a dance and we are held within its sway;
We dip and twirl and fake the steps, from polka to ballet.
The music of the atmosphere imbues us with its beat
And if we choose to hear it, we just follow with our feet.
Copyright © ilene bauer | Year Posted 2012
Yesterday I forgot the shade of your eyes
I struggled to remember your touch
Today I forgot the sound of your voice
Each day I don't miss you so much
In the end you only brought me sorrow
I wonder what I won't remember tomorrow
Copyright © Katrina Keller-Cole | Year Posted 2013
Loving is to through a pebble into the sea
and the ripple become a wave
to plant a seed
and it become a tree
to cook a meal
and it become a feast
to build a house
and it become a home
to shine a light
and it become a beacon
to speak a name
and it impart trust
to see what lies benieth
what is seen on the surface
to hear the secrets
of the heart being told
to touch and give
comfort to a human being
to feel empathy instead
of sympathy in time of need
to let love be measured
by decades and deeds
where words are the least
of expressions of these
but summerize the tears, fears
and tongue of our God
a relationship with both
mate and Diety we laud
with works and prayers
love is more than words
it is the path we trod
love is a blanket
covered to keep warm
love is a needle
sewing socks while a fire burns
love is waking
before the break of dawn
love is baking and taking out
before it burns
love is a love note
during the day
love is thought
finding words to say
love is sometimes saying
"You can have it your way"
and love is duality in saying
"Lord give US this day"
where hell and high water
have no say
a sacred trust
in giving time away
love is forgiving all that
love is not giving
that which belongs
the only place to find this love
it is the place we call heaven
up high above
Copyright © john loving iii | Year Posted 2010
I have a special story I wish to share
About a seamstress beautiful and fair
She would fade away turning into smoke
Of her amazing beauty, no man would joke
The spiraling smoke would then re-form
I know only an angels face could be so warm
Before her a beautiful quilt was spread
Upon it the story of my life was said
As she once again started to dissipate
She said, “Mike this quilt records your fate”
As the smoke traveled over to a new place
And then formed together creating her face
Looking over her shoulder back at me
She said, “This area will hold what has yet to be”
Most of the quilt looked like twisted evil tattoo
Simply because, my life’s quilt was quilted true
I looked the quilt over and then met her gaze
She was so beautiful in so many different ways
The last part of the quilt way over to the right
Showed the beauty of someone changing their plight
Upon her beautiful hand, which seemed so nimble
I noticed she was wearing my grandmother’s thimble
From a young maiden so beautiful to see
My grandmother appeared right in front of me
I guess up in heaven we return to our youth
My grandmother was beautiful; such is the truth
I thought of the price grandma was asked to pay
The shame of knowing I had turned out that way
I thought of her sitting there stitching my shame
My grandmother didn’t deserve an eternity of pain
She said, “Michael be still with the pain in your heart,
Your story encourages others to make a new start.”
“The deeper the wrong the stronger the right
I always knew my boy would take up the fight”
With a smile much brighter than an ice covered sea
She said, “I love the man my boy has grown up to be”
As she turned to the quilt and started to sew
She said, “Michael, its now time for you to go.”
“Believe in your story believe in your truth
For Salvation is the true fountain of youth”
One night in a dream, which I’ll hold forever divine
I learned; my Grandmother is now,” The Seamstress of Time”
When I was a boy I would help my Grandmother roll
her quilt, find her glasses, as well as, her thimble. I
never thought about how amazing her art truly was.
From a pile of rags she would make the most beautiful
quilt's. I sleep under one of her quilts to this very day.
Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2011
HORSE FROM MARS
It came from the sky, a gray silver stallion.
I looked up high, and I have also seen a dragon.
With so many things in this universe.
I'm on stand-by with a camera in my purse.
Who would have known I'd be the first to spot a PEGASUS.
The town folks wave hi every time I walk my hippopotamus.
I enjoy showing everyone, my pictures of a flying horse.
I don't see why they call a DOCTOR every time I call the TASK FORCE
I think they are jealous over all the things I've seen.
They act all crazy since I sighted a LEPRECHAUN when I was fourteen.
No one ever believed me when I saw an army of dragonflies.
They have a name for me "the boy who See's too much in the skies!"
I don't know why they can't see what I see.
For all I know they are all experiments under Alien Technology.
They don't believe me how I got this magic MEDALLION.
It was a friendly gift from the silver stallion.
I also have many pictures of a UNICORN.
We became best-friends when he gave me a piece of its magic horn.
We sat together while he drank from the lake.
We enjoyed talking, --talking about how U.F.O.'s are fake.
Why can't they see? The day I fell off a boat, I got rescued by a MERMAID!
Who would have known a mermaid swim around with first-aid.
I also remember the day I followed a LEPRECHAUNS.
We were playing under the rainbow having so much fun.
When I told my doctor about all the things I've seen.
He locked me in a DUNGEON, thinking I was the ALIEN QUEEN.
I begged and I told him I don't believe in any type of alien.
Too bad the master of this dungeon came from another region.
In a way he looks like that one SILVER STALLION from Mars.
The first creature I'd seen the day I fell off the monkey bars.
I have this picture of this horse of course.
JUST help me out of this white-jacket!!! ;-)
If you want to see the coolest picture of a flying horse.
(A small collaboration with: B-Boy)
re-post for ~FUNNY CONTEST
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2011
Go now, rest your weary heart.
Against the soft moonlit night.
Walk into the valley of peace and tranquility.
Loosen those chains that bind your soul.
Let them fall to the ground, never look back.
Let the veil of time lift you up.
As the last breath of life seeps from your lips.
Float out of this world and into the light.
Through the veil of time, go now, no time to wait.
For now you are free, free to be who you really are.
Imagine you flying against the golden sun.
Fly with the spirits who light the nights.
Go now to the world beyond time.
Worn out with lost dreams are you.
Go now and let them come true.
Set yourself free from these bones.
Feb. 29th 2012 leap year
Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2013
There I see him sitting like a dummy.
Asking me for more shots of rummy
Talking about his detox days.
Talking about his poetic ways.
Rhyming my eyes comparing them to the moon.
Whispering lines saying he wants too spoon.
Next thing you know his words start getting deep.
Poeting out words revealing he's the family's black sheep.
His blood shot level was releasing his emotional word.
Dreaming that I was in a bath like a dirty bird.
Intoxicated with a breath so refreshing.
Designing me a thousand passionate ones in the meshing
Falling for his physical and mental temporary drunken state
His sense of intellectual things where hitting me real straight.
Swallowing his words like a forbidden love potion
I excessively indulged him with more alcohol to inspire his motion
Admitting to me that love was his downfall.
For me he fell from the stars and than began to crawl.
Proposing a toast for the sake of love
Rambling how I'm the only one he's dreaming of
Nourishing me with his ocean water of affection
Re-bonding his words for me to be his resurrection
Call me crazy for feeling the connection!
Allowing him to penetrate his poetry in me like an injection.
A character so loving above a 99% liquor proof test.
Romancing me with the disguise that he is the best.
Restraining myself from this drunken poet called my husband
Remembering that he is the one fool I can not stand
In his most charming rhyme he called me his rehab.
By that time I knew it was time to call him a cab.
Reminding him about his Alcoholic Anonymous class.
Now all of a sudden he starts acting like an a$$!
Putting his drunken sober poet mind to sleep.
Anyways tomorrow he will still be the same poetic romantic creep!
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010
Dreams come in many forms
Some are cold and others warm
Some play like a movie in black and white
And some are no less than a guiding light
Some are visions of times to come
Some just simply leave us numb
Some we remember and some we forget
Some we cherish and some we regret
Some we just can't help but treasure
Some give us embarrassing pleasure
I close my eyes and dream of you
All the things I've put you through
See I had a dream that went sour
An awful dream of money and power
Then I learned one cold hard day
Some dreams take years to pay
Sometimes reality is clearly seen
Another will soon touch my dream
As these tears run down my face
Some dreams are just to good to waste
I can only imagine the pain in you
Trying hard to be faithful and true
Sweetheart some dreams are to hard to play
As I slowly start to fade away
A single year has came and went
I have seven more at eighty-five percent
Sometimes reality is sad as can be
Sweetheart I want you to let go of me
I learned love is worth more than gold
You deserve somebody to hold
This type relationship is totally insane
I want you to free yourself of my pain
If our love is truly meant to be
My dream will bring you back to me
Strength of character is hard to find
As I treasure yours please treasure mine
I believe our love can break the mold
Be a timeless romantic story told
About two lovers who broke apart
In order to save each others hearts
And let their love be a miracle seen
By having faith to touch a dream
Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2007
The last few weeks have been real hard
You see the "dealer of life" deals the cards
As the trials and blessings come and go
It's true we must reap what we sow
At times the trials are many and the blessings are few
Just let the light of your soul shine on through
Yesterday I walked to the bridge over the creek
By the time I got there I was tired and weak
As I sat on the bridge taking a break
Questioning "how much more can I take"
A speeding drunk driver lost control
I watched it unfold nice and slow
Sometimes the blessings are clear to see
They crashed into the rail right next to me
My guardian angel said soft as could be
I'll never give up on you don't give up on me
These last few weeks I have felt rather low
With a deep down emptiness up in my soul
So regardless of the pain or length of the fight
I reckon it's once again time for me to write
For my pen is the tool that I use to see
The power of the Lord working in me
Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2007
Sparkling snow crystals in a bright blue winter wonderland in your hand
A lovely thought about my pretty and beloved mother land
If you see angels in the snow you can remember the time with romance
Enjoy the tranquility descend while giving your childhood a second chance
Snow glistened and sparkled as the most beautiful diamonds at first glance
It was almost a little magic in what happened.... or was it romance
Childhood memories aroused when you see the rabbit tracks in the snow by chance
Oh, so rich I felt as a child in the clear, cold winter nights in snow crystals dance
Small red kids boots in sharp contrast to the white snow and a diamond remnants
Childrens eyes shining in delight and snow crystals sparkle of happiness evidence
A-L Andresen :)
Sponsor :Gail Angel Doyle
Contest Name:A Diamond's Remnants
Deadline: 1/15/2014 12:00:00
(5th in the contest)
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2014
. ~ BYE ~
Its time to say bye!
I have no reason why?
This site was fun from day to day.
Poetry came in a fun way of play.
Goodbye to all my friends.
Don't worry this won't be the end.
Maybe later I will be back.
With a better nit knack.
I never believed in writers block.
But I've been accused of hanging out with this flock.
Now I know writers block is true.
I will miss every single one of you.
Later I will explain things in my blog.
How the soup is an addicting hog.
Who knows how long it will take p.d. to post again.
I will always come back and read all my favorite poet friends.
To all my commenter's or he & she that placed me as a favorite poet.
WOW! To all my comments and you know it.
Even the poets I never got the chance to know.
Thank you all for making my poetry grow.
Right now it's time to say bye!
Every now and than I will say Hi!
Everyone sooner or later has to rock & roll.
This is my cue to go!
Always BY; P.D.
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010
Eventually time will destroy everything
and its sands will be clay, dust, ashes...nothing
Copyright © Ruben O. | Year Posted 2012
I lay me on the grassy lawn
And watch the stars, they're floating on
While one comes out from round the eaves
Across the sky another leaves
The sky is slowly shifting round
So different stars are always found
The dipper turns just like a clock
Without a sound of tick or tock
It turns about that central star
That guides the sailors from afar
While with it sails Queen Cassie's throne
And all the constellations known
Tonight's a clear and peaceful night
The moon is gone, the stars are bright
I slowly drift to seas of dreams
Alights with pinprick starlit streams
I'm thinking all the charming while
With placid face and hinting smile
That when I wake in early morn
Some different stars will be reborn
Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2013
Kiss The Rain
I dug the earth with sharpened blade
I turned it with that hefty spade
For hours my arms did sweat and toil
To prepare for you the soil
I made it smooth with my long rake
The stones remove and clods to break
I work to make your little heads
Warm and comfy in your beds
A furrow straight and deep I draw
And place you tender in that score
I cover you, make sure your firm
Hope your safe there with the worm
And so for now my toil is done
Its up to you the rain and sun
For I have done all that I know
To encourage you to grow
From time to time I look to see
If you have broken through for me
For I would love to see again
You soak the sun and kiss the rain
R D Seal 25 Feb 13
Copyright © Richard D Seal | Year Posted 2013
The pendulum motions to and fro,
From the clock upon the wall.
As the second ebb like grains of sand,
For one by one they fall.
Through the window of the dim lit room,
For outside, lies a world of grey,
For thoughts now turn to yester year,
That seems so far away.
With freckle on skin and golden hair,
Topped with lace like bonnet fair.
Upon a face a smile of glee,
As little feet splash in the sea.
A bucket clenched in fingers tight,
With spade to match its colors bright.
In awe and wonder of many things,
Through eyes so young that new life brings.
N Windle. MMXI.
Copyright © nicholas windle | Year Posted 2011
An Echo Through Time
An echo through time follows all now in kind;
It’s the moment when poets find their rhyme!
Past-Present events give us a mirror to see from,
Of what Present Perfect events have now become.
Poets must write to truth what surely they mean;
With such wondrous verses the reader shall glean!
Writing with tone, tenor and syncopation is grand,
Giving poets that mellifluous effect desired by plan.
The echo quality of a great poem bespeaks its passion,
Whilst its literary panache shall always be in fashion!
An echo reflects a poem’s true resonance by intention;
Ensuring one’s mind shifts to an intellectual dimension.
Poets’ rendezvous with this echo through time is divine;
It helps us enshrine our thoughts now in continuous time!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
November 27, 2015 (Rhymed Couplet)
Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015
Twinkle twinkle little star
How I loved you from afar
Now I want the whole world to know
If our hearts unite I’ll never let you go
You really meant the world to me
But when we met we were not free
The love that burned within my heart
Was so intense right from the start
We met at work twenty years ago
Just one smile left my heart aglow
I always called you my shining star
In a designer suit and your red sports car
We were engaged to others, knew it was wrong
Still the passion grew and it burned so strong
You brought me lacy underwear
We met in secret and had an affair
Wracked with guilt - we had to part
The last time I saw you broke my heart
Thoughts of you were often in my head
But we both moved on and in time got wed
We are both divorced and now are free
Do you still have those old feelings for me
Guess we've changed a lot over the years
Had our share of happiness and tears
Meeting with you now it is down to fate
Can we rekindle our love or is it too late?
Contest Twinkle Twinkle Little Star – Kelly Deschler
~awarded 2nd place~
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015
Today, I spent some time alone
to settle down into my bones.
I nestled deep in songs at last,
soothed by the choir of loved ones passed.
Forgotten was the ache of loss,
I meditated on the cross.
My mind was clear of lists and worries.
My soul at peace was in no hurry.
I synchronized breaths with the breeze
and God’s empathic voice with ease.
I never uttered words of prayer,
just listened, in my silence bare.
Oh, how the world washes away
our innocence to love and play!
Our spirits fraught long to seek God,
Heaven’s envoy in His ballade.
Today, I spent some time alone
to feel my soul set free from bone.
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015
From past to the present and then into future
sometimes time is like a saint and sometimes a butcher.
Copyright © kash poet | Year Posted 2012
The first time I painted the old red barn
I was twenty years old and the skies were blue.
There it sat in the middle of the hay field
Waiting to be immortalized on canvas.
The second time I painted the old red barn
I was thirty-nine and my life was in turbulence.
The fall thunderclouds predominated the picture.
The hayfield almost orange with the coming sunset.
The last time I took my easel to the field
The barn had faded to a dusty rose colour,
But the skies were blue and the clouds were fluffy.
The hay waved joyously in the breeze.
The barn and I had both aged and faded with time
But we were still blessed with the sun shining on the hay.
Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2010
I ran by this thing with haste, that malevolent beast as to school I went
Centered In a beautiful field i never played, because we all knew of the shallow graves.
We never saw them, no one dared to find them, and no one ever even looked
For the other children that were buried there, trust for a child is given by word of mouth.
The rumors grew, as the tulips did in the field that held That Old Red Barn.
A child’s fancy, the minds plaything sometimes given over to the rule of what it thinks must
Because Jennifer said it, it must be so; I don’t dare to find out the actual truth. I’m not that
So I leave it alone, this beautiful thing, because the cover does not always tell the story
If I had given it a second glance and not been so scared that I didn’t notice,
That just beyond the reaches of the trees at its circumference laid a house of golden hue
And in those walls, a grander story than even of that of “That Old Red Barn”
A family of two … now ancient to me spent their time growing corn and raising grain
That would one day come to the table I sat, nourishing me and giving me strength.
Letting me have the energy I need, to quickly run by “That Old Red Barn”
So that I could fly past this place that they built and in their hearts would always treasure
I don’t think that they knew of the fear it instilled all because of one child’s rants
But now that I know and am older now, I look out my front door and see what they mean
This Beautiful Field and “That Old Red Barn” once seemed a curious creature
Full of fear and malevolence, they were too old to invest the time to restore it to splendor
So I purchased from them all this vastness of pleasure, That Beautiful Field, and yes “That
Old Red Barn”
Written By: Ryland Joshua Matthews
Copyright © Ryland Matthews | Year Posted 2010
Loaned to all at one’s birth, a life and time,
For some, a life time paying back every dime.
Copyright © harry horsman | Year Posted 2012
A GREAT TIME
We are at the P.S.convention at a table of four.
Sitting at our table was me,Michael and two more.
They were speaking about poetry and our poet friends.
We're laughing and saying to each other hope this night
They were late but Andrea and Linda-Maria finally showed.
Andrea said the reason we're late we had to find a place
to park so we wouldn't get towed.
So as the night wynnded down and fun was over.
Remember a poetry friend is like no other.
Entered in Michael Falotico's"A table of four"contest
Copyright © T.A. Skyles-Theoklapoet | Year Posted 2011
The Lord poured me, a pitcher of time.
For my personal use, it was only mine.
A generous portion, it seemed I got.
I wasted so much, I poured out a lot.
Exchanged for things, not a bargain in the end.
I can't get time back, it's not something I lend.
My pitcher's half empty, thankfully not too late.
I finally come to learn, what really satiates.
Time spent with people, poured into their lives.
Nourishing their spirits, makes my soul thrive.
Flowers now bloom, as I walk on life's path.
People are my pleasure, I smile and I laugh.
Thankful for each drop, a gift from on high.
Connected to a source, that never runs dry.
My waters of time, are converted to wine.
I give it back to God, it is no longer mine.
When this life is over, I will leave this land.
Off to eternity, as God takes my hand.
Drakes response inspired the wine stanza.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2013
Bill and Blanche set off, to the 'Yorkshire Show' they did go
T'was a yearly trip, and they would always show.
Each time Bill says to Blanche ‘On that elicopter I’d like to ride.’
Blanche always replied’ but it's twenty quid Bill’ and then she and Bill sighed.
'Twenty quid is twenty quid Bill, you always told me that'
‘Tha’s right me old love,’ and he’d give his wallet a pat.
The next year Bill looked, at the elicopter, and he tried once more
‘I’m seventy-five Blanche, there not much time left for me to soar.’
‘Bill, it’s twenty quid, and twenty quid is twenty quid.
So we’ll not go on the elicopter ride, of that idea you must get rid.’
Bill looked at the elicopter and agreed twenty quid was twenty quid
Of that one idea though, he could never really get rid.
Bill was desperate to ride on that elicopter whirring thing
The pilot overheard the couple, and then he made Bill’s heart sing.
I’ll take you on board, but not one word must you say
If you keep TOTALLY quiet, not one pound or penny will you pay.
Bill and Blanche climbed on board ,for the ride of their life
Not one word did Bill utter, nor his terrified wife.
The pilot looped the loop, he dived and twisted and turned
Not one word did the pilot hear, yet even his stomach churned.
He landed and spoke to Bill and he said ‘I am impressed’
I twisted and I turned and I really tried my best.
Bill said to the pilot ‘Well I nearly gave in lad, and I nearly spoke’
‘Twas when the wife fell out, but you know us Yorkshire folk.’
I watched her spiral down; I nearly shouted, but thought that’s absurd
‘And tha knows twenty quid is twenty quid lad, and you said NOT one word.’
Taken from a joke sent to me by Jack Horne and continuing the theme Harry uses of Yorkshire Humour.
Quid Slang name for pound sterling
Yorkshire folk drop their 'h's
Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2012