Best Derbyshire Poems
The Merry Minstrel of Mickleover
I strike this chord without a sword
For I am not so brave
Whence came a knight with armour bright
Who vowed princess to save
The wicked sire of the shire
Had seen well to kidnap
The daughter of the king and bring
Much wealth into his lap
Handsome he thought the ransom
The king was sure to pay
For fear his precious princess dear
The wicked sire would slay
From his abode the knight he rode
Through wind and rain and storm
O’er hill and dale and muddy trail
His quest to keep him warm
The castle wall it looked so tall
Impregnable in height
Banged on the door and yet once more
His iron fist with might
The surly sire quoths to enquire
“Who raps upon my door”
“Tis mystery, now set her free
Or death you’ll lay before”
With lunge and slash with swords they clash
Upon the open plain
Died his desire there in the mire
As evil sire is slain
The princess freed from needless greed
Sort knight to gift reward
“Place in my hand just thine hair band
If this please thy accord”
( The minstrels song lived large and long
Was sung all o’er the land
Where ‘ere he been could still be seen
Rebec ‘dorned with blue band )
Rebec; A medaeval violin type instrument
Mickleover; A village in Derbyshire, England
Though now a suburb of the City of Derby
The residents still refer to it as ‘The Village’
For Medaeval Idealism Contest
Sponsor, Isaiah Zerbst
Retirement
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire
Stop working now
The boss was hopeless
Gave you no hope
The nine-to-five grind
Is over now
Retirement
Exit, exit excite
Up, up away
Banjo your mango
Man goes
Peddle your medal
On your salad day
Now is not the time
To join the navy
The prospects look good
And plum the perks are
Light up the shadows of your heart
The acceptable goodbyes are gone
Cunning and guile is over now
Your time hath come now
You have been on
The see-saw of redemption
And have seen
The trickery and deceit of
Those coconuts
The valor of the dastard
Made you suffer for your pound
And their illustrations of deception
Their myths of abstractions
In silence you could not reply
But be shut and sulk.
You were brave
Your time is art now
And no more tick tock
Go out with a bang
Before the haunted dark
Peachy life now
Sleeves are down
Your retirement eve
Grow rich, go rich and
Trump up your comfort.
Funny Numbers
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire
2 Whom it may
Concern
Numb I have suffered
And by God done I am
Lord..
So many characters
Too many teachers
Yell and try to tell
How to sauce
The spice of life
By virtue
Two are true
So boo woo
And I am just
A baby day old.
Two you fall in love
4 you will rue
They break your heart
In 25 pieces
And give you
Zero back.
It's the beginning
They four get
And it end's
Like 12th of never
Nevermind
Some were I source
Yes eyesore's they were
They endangered species
They remember
And blame you 33 times.
B 4 U
Put them on ice
Have a double
And tot with no trouble.
Now a triple
And equal them
To zero.
I once went to supper
We eight
The food was dumb
Their woman beautiful.
Even 11 is even
If you hush out 1
Now I am one
Goin solo
Not duo
First in line
Sho go away
Want to be alone
Whimper somewhere else.
It's my album.
I start my life
To count
Up to five.
I know the abc
A B C
It's incredible code.
I am no 123456789
Use the calculator
Electric arithmetic
One in a billion
Nor the first
I count on me' self
Digit fidget fiddle
The credit or debit
Switch don't twiddle
A stitch saves nine
Overdrafted with
NineTea six
Needles and pins
Arithmetic rhythm
Hum de wow
After 5 minutes
Hum de whaa.
Caught 22
You get it ...
Make that change
You with 007 figure ? ..
Copyright relax ..
Odd man very odd
You will be 66 and
Still outstanding gold.
Zero zero seven
I give you 10
from 10.
But I ..
A Adam
Eye for one
Be the first 1
In A billion.
2 Whom it may concern
So now you happy
You know me
Or You.
The Derbyshire flag has a cross of green
with a background of pale blue
green for the verdant leas and peaks
blue Derwent running through.
At the crux of the cross, a Tudor rose
fierce history it carries
Henry the seventh beat Richard the third
Lancaster and York houses married.
Combined, their roses red and white
for the house of Tudor of old
Derbyshire's rose, recently born,
resplendent in it's gold.
Consider yourself edified
in this poetic manner
for this may be the last time that
I write about a banner.
Viv Wigley
12th July
For contest 'tell us about your county state city flag', sponsored by Judy Konos
Gangster Comedy
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire
Shooty shooty bang bang ####
Dark alley
" siete sulla mia terra ? ..
* o ouais vous êtes une star .. bastard !
" andando a saltare in su Frenchie
* Oh yeah !! pas cher vienna
" ok lungo naso barboncino francese!
Shooty shooty bang bang ####
* hey tête de salami attendre une minute s'il vous plaît
" perché è questo frenchy ??
* comment vous connaissez mon nez est long?
" si sporge da un angolo!
" È per questo che so che sei qui Frenchy
* ah merci Mr patate! ne vous dérange si je tire maintenant?
" Vi do il piacere ..
* Je vous remercie
Shooty shooty bang bang ##
" hi Frenchy possiamo gangster in inglese si prega ?
£ Good evening ol chap ...
lovely alley to shootout..
dont you think?
£ Just marvelous old boy..
How is Agnes and the kids ..?
£ Bloodygood bloody good My Lord !
£ Ay i fancy that ... A i fancy .
£ Good night then me' lord
€ And a jolly good night to you Baron ..
Halt! Wer geht dahin !
Choochi chichi pookie boo!!
Choochi chichi pookie boo!!!
€The wives are callin us for diner Baron
Zorro ..
Yo sólo soy un francotirador español..
(Apologies to any cowboys in Derbyshire)
The telegraph came through, but just in time
before my coach had passed the county line
mah girl wuz all alone and in distress
and only one guy could go save her- well, you guessed.
Ah told mah driver “stop! I gotta help her
drop me off- ahm headin' back to Belper!"
"Yo crazy boy! The old guy spluttered forth
there ain't nuthin' but trouble that far north”
His words had barely registered, I'd say
but I was in Duffield, post-haste, half way,
that one horse town of Derby far behind
but only winsome Janet on mah mind.
Time wuz almost out when I rode through
she'd almost given up on me, I knew
as when I burst in through that old front door
and spotted, scared, surrounded on the shop floor
mah old lady though, terrified, there wuz no doubt
cryin' "Help me, Lord- mah credit card's maxed out!"
Well, a man does what he's gotta do, so
I reached fast for mah wallet and broke through
passed her mah card, and though it be a sin
I'd told her long ago mah chip 'n pin.
She spun real tight and, takin' no more lip
swiped up the card, dang! Shootin' from the hip.
We road into the sunset, items paid
and before nightfall, hey- somebody got laid.
Woke up just before dawn, mah eyes still poppin',
but so what- who said all us guys just don't dig shoppin' ?
Competition- ' Let 'er rip- shoot from the hip 18th March 2015
Well, what can I tell you about both my names?
I'm not quite sure where I should start,
'Vivian' means 'lively' which raises a smile
to friends of this tired old fart.
It's not very common as names for men go,
and famous Vivians very few
Viv Richards the cricketer and Vivian Fuchs
the explorer, they're the only two.
My surname's from Derbyshire, Wirksworth, in fact,
all sweat and pickaxes and fire,
and I now don't think my forename is that odd
with an ancestor named Obidiah.
My forebears were lead miners, hazardous work
with poisonous ore and rock falls
and looking back over my family tree
I'm surprised that I'm here at all !
23rd November 2015
for contest 'What's in your name', sponsored by C.T
Dark skies lurked to press upon 'em
To Autumn they succumbed
Trying to change was superfluous
By twilight, the hills were overcome
Fingertips of trees reached upward
Hoping to prick the clouds
Windy spirits then flew upward
It was heartfelt and profound
A kindhearted spirit disappeared
Beckoning the leaves to glow
They could not refuse adherence
When down came the shadow
Rain embraced green hills abruptly
Drizzling its dainty fingers
Across grasslands prematurely
Where puddles would linger
Dancing like the deities
Of pagans long ago
Nature shared its transiency
And shone itself aglow
Autumn carried its winds above
Not knowing what to think
About nature's labour of love
To which humans are linked
The night solemnly awaited
Dusk's passage to morning
The course of time was fated
For Derbyshire's adornment
Animated eastern midlands
And the good people there
Enchantment set them free
Whilst Autumn filled the air
With colourful leaves everywhere
The Autumn brings them joy
Loving hearts are found in the square
Bright new daylight galore!
Good morning
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire
Good morning
Daughter dearest
So far away..
In my morning tea
I see you
I am thinking ..
Where ever you are ..
Whatever are
You doing now ..
Our hearts are aching for you
We feel you near.
We love you with every tick tock ..
Have a wonderful uplifting day
Keep strong and know that
You have done us proud.
You.. our beautiful gallery
I have seen you grow
From pitter and patter ..
To crawl and walk
From trial and try
And brave became
From shy to shine
Now standing tall
On your own two feet
You smile I smile
Right on time
Tick tock
Sync..sync..
Our mind's link
Together we wink
Hannah Adderley jumped with a wail
from the clifftop at Middleton Dale
but her petticoats cute
made a great parachute
for a soft landing, wow! What a tale!
(Hannah, of Stoney Middleton, Derbyshire, had been jilted at the altar
and although her suicide attempt was a failure she died of natural causes
two years later in 1764)
The Janitor
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire
He takes the wipe and aims
At the drip of urine
He looks and concentrates
With deep ambition to
Wipe it clean and dry.
He marches proudly up and down
And flushes clean what's left behind
He walks here and there
And wipes whenever he can
He keeps it clean.
His face is brutal humble
He does not grumble
It is no trouble
To clean a fumble.
His shoes is shining black
He is tidy neat
Tonight he will
Put food on the table.
And give thanks.
Thank you
Janitor
No one ever says.
Tis sore int' thwait
wi mor'n a few folks a gippy
loose tha's snap as M'pessons well
n tek sum brass from t'watter
na its nowt but a mickle midden
but them folks as a good un, narry a one of 'em flit
tek thasen a gander
but the's nowt in Eyam save 'plague
Translation
It is bad in the village
with more than a few people sick
Leave your food at Mompessons Well
and take some money from the water
Now it's nothing but a big mess
But the villagers are good people, not any one of them has left
Take yourself a look
but there is nothing in Eyam except the Plague
History
The village of Eyam in Derbyshire was hit by the plague at the same time as London (1665),
the villagers self imposed a quarantine to prevent the disease spreading any further, the
surrounding villages left food at a well near Eyam, in exchange for money which had been
left in the vinegar filled well to clean it.
For "Sista's Bloody Sista's" contest run by Deborah Guzzi
Honorable Mention
Elation & Vacillation a comedy
A poem
Lionel Derbyshire
Every day I want to .. but I could not
Today I must do .. I have to
Yesterday I let it go away so today
I will not run dry, I will , I must
I have done my mirror practice
And I looked so good so here goes
Cannot wait another minute
Before I bleat myself with over worry
Must not become tense this is really it
Will not plummet , will not go down
Rise I am the centre of my universe
No need to annex my courage
The time has really come
Come on now, chin is up on high
My teeth is white, my smile is wide
My shoes are polished , my shirt is ironed
I am top class.
I m a getting there after I leave here
I will swing my arms when I get there
I will stand on my own two feet
I will sway and dance with joy
Confidently I have such high hopes
Singing now, no doubt about it
I ‘ll be over the moon when Sally says “YES”
So here goes …. Shelly will you marry me ??
Whack smack ! wrong girl …
Toffee
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire
Once upon a time
A Cape Town where they live
This windy place where it is cold
His name is Gwynne glee
Her name is Phyllis glow
A little shy was he
To ask on her
Her hand in love
She pride herself
And would not
Listen to his cry
She would not trip
Like biscuit on his catch
Little did she know that
On his lucky day
A windy blow came by
And combed her hair
In her eyes
And in orbit
She was falling down
With breath and length
Of hand he winged her up
On nearly hitting ground
Her first time smile
Glowed his face a while
In his pocket was a toffee
He handed her
Which let him smile
For a lifetime..
Little did she know
She would fall
For him.
Erotic Mystery
poem
Lionel Derbyshire
The morning smells like roses
The night is left behind.
Two bodys rolling over organs
Waiting and slithering close
There are no walls
To divide kisses
Hearts are erotic
Love is rage.
The ecstasy starts
Bodys grow stiff
Parts are pouting.
Honey flowing streaming
Fearing no caveats.
The morning smells like roses.
The sheets they slip
Sharp nails etch
Every blue vein in ire
Crying deep.
The lips rapture
The seduction myteriously.
The eyes are close
Hearts are pounding ,
Cupid is in loving brace
such like Eros in blythe
And Aphrodite just lushes about.
Or am I just ..
Swirling bordeaux.