Best Scarborough Poems
EVENING FAIR (sing to Scarborough Fair)
Crust of bread and strawberries red
Cheese and wine will go to your head
And when you dance the room becomes magic
Step and whirl at Blithe County Fair
Warm the night with bright crescent Moon
Fiddles three an old Spanish tune
Sweet Greta Lee has captured my fancy
Step and whirl at Blithe County Fair
Youth and Eros moment of bliss
Rose glow her cheeks I offer a kiss
Though so demure she yields to temptation
Found my true love at Blithe County Fair
fewer …
stars there are
in the heart of heaven
than the myriad ripples of brine that
gently placed me here -
tender tongues of tide that tossed me
and polished my bark away
shaped me smooth from jagged -
turned from beast, to beauty …
courses ago -
I was loosed from a tree
and lost to the sevens in a gale -
sundered from all I’d known
yet …
my journey was ordered
as all things are
made divine not by substance
but by ministration
and singularity …
for the universe, entire,
holds no other creation like me
the countless moments
and patient, boundless energy
that my trek required
would never have been wasted
on the unremarkable …
and though one sojourn has ended
something awaits
that is more infinite, even
than waves …
OR suns …
possibility.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, August 12, 2023
( photo taken 8/1/23 by Gregory R Barden, Ferry Beach, Scarborough, ME )
A man living in Tobago
but he was born in Trinidad
he loves his next door neighbor
this is his story it might be funny or sad
he really loves this woman
he cant live without her
he hears she gone to Canada
he take a plane an follow her
when he reach over there
he heard she went to England
so he book a ticket
and fly out to Buckingham
but then am Englishman tell him
how she gone to Tobago
so he take plane to Scarborough
and will reach this same time tomorrow
when a man loves a women
he will be like the wind behind her skirt
he will follow her to any where
even to the end of the earth
because a woman is priceless
you can never measure her worth
more precious than them treasures
they will find under the earth
when a man loves a women
there's nothing that he wont do
she's like a beautiful sunshine
wearing a dress and shoe
he hear she gone to Kingston
in the island of Jamaica
but when he gone he meet a Rasta
and they smoke some marijuana
he even gone to Australia
but get lost and didn't know what to do
then he had to leave and run away
when he was chase by a big kangaroo
then someone tell him they see her
and she was wearing a sombrero
so he jump over the border
and gone looking for her in Mexico
but a pretty senorita told him
how she gone to Madrid in Spain
so he get on a little aero plane
but it roll down inside a drain
they release him from the hospital
he was lucky to be alive
when he reach back in his country
his parents was waiting for him to arrive
there's a lot of powers
that god give to a women
and one of them is
how to steal the heart of a man
well after all that traveling
he sits in his gallery alone in pain
then he sees the women looking at him waving
she was sick all week and home sleeping
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Whitby is a great little town
Nearby Scarborough is too noisy by far
Here at Whitby. you can sit around
On the beach dreaming of castles afar
To Transylvania, to the castle of Bran
Where. I saw a vision of Vlad
Known as the Impaler what a bad lad
Leaving his victims impaled so sad
I suddenly saw the look in his eyes
I scurried away I was shaking inside
Round and round the castles did run
Didn't want my body left hanging I cried
His shoes were muffled by the felt coverings we wore
This Is the tradition when visiting here
Felt his hot breadth on my neck
Nearly stiff with fright never known such fear
Through memories mist his hand appears
Grabbing my jacket he hastened to say
This is nice how much did you pay
When I told him in a low voice, Oww Much.*
were the words that came my way
The spell was broken I could see
Vlad the Impaler was smiling at me
Did I frighten you your face was a scream
Felt like impaling him for all to see
Eyes opened I was back at Whitby sands
Was just a small dream inspired by a plaque
Left to commemorate me a citizen called Bram
Showing the place where I wrote. Dracula.
*oww much a typical Yorkshire expression of surprise at the high cost.
Tg
They stopped Scarborough Fair,
And the children went home
Clutching their goldfish bowl.
They'll remember the din,
The shouts and the screams
Plus their colourful win.
Or will name the bright fish,
Put the bowl on a dish,
Or sing soft of Scarborough Fair.
2/15/2015
Are You Dreaming of Winning a Race?
(After "Scarborough Fair" by Simon and Garfunkle)
Are you dreaming of winning a race,
Harley, Sym, Suzuki, Triumph!
Find sweet success when you win the great chase.
You once flew like the wind soaring up.
Tell them, your fans say they love your new flare.
(On the path at the dunes near the soft sandy sea.)
Harley, Sym, Suzuki, Triumph!
(Chasing the vision on dirt-laden ground.)
Relax breath deep; do not fear the jumps.
(Dashing to power the king of the fast lanes.)
You will fly like the wind soaring up.
(Tracks at your back; you race faster than all.)
Tell them to find you a sponsor with funds.
(On the road to the dunes, fans watch near sandy seas.)
Harley, Sym, Suzuki, Triumph?
(Cohorts, once bound are partners for years.)
Because they believe in your great success –
(A backer shouts and relishes the fun.)
You will fly like the wind soaring up.
Tell them to market motorcycles t-shirts.
(Fans mellow, cheering with nervous reflections.)
Harley, Sym, Suzuki, Triumph!
(Managers coaching their drivers use skill.)
And whenever you keep success in your mind,
(For the sake of a dream that was never forgotten.)
You will fly like the wind soaring up.
Are you dreaming of winning a race?
Harley, Sym, Suzuki, Triumph!
Find sweet success when you win the great chase.
You once flew like the wind soaring up.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XEhAXQ5QQzs <= Performance
http://www.lyricsfreak.com/s/simon+and+garfunkel/scarborough+fair_20124689.html <
http://digitaldreamdoor.nutsie.com/pages/lyrics/scarborough_fair.html <= Lyrics
ARE YE GOING TO MARRY THAT WITCH OF A DAME - Counterfeiting the CANTICLE by T. Wignesan
(With self-lacerating apologies and scathing penance to that great troubador medieval English poet who longed for his lovely lass during expunging pilgrimages to Scarborough Fair. T. Wignesan)
Are ye going to marry that b**ch of a dame
Peanuts quail venison on lime
Remember what she did to make you so lame
For she's bound to ditch ye if you hardly rhyme
Tell her to stop painting her leathery face
Peanuts quail venison on lime
Without no mud nor slime on lewd grimace
She's bound to ditch ye if you're stumped for a rhyme
Have her stripped in yon dark desert lithium mine
Peanuts quail venison on lime
Remember how good she's at the roller-coaster grind
She's bound to ditch ye if you feminine rhyme
Have her read to ye Gulliver's Travels in bed
Peanuts quail venison on lime
And ride all Yahoos till their butt-ends turn red
Then she's bound to stitch vowels in your rhyme
Have her show ye all her unkempt drawers
Peanuts quail venison on lime
In between her sonorous sighs and rough coughs in tatters
Then she'll witch her wiles for the guile of a dime
© T. Wignesan - Paris, May 8, 2019
Now this is a little story of the caravan that rocked
Whether parked in roadside lay-bys, the locals were never shocked
They travelled from the Highlands and motored so far and wide
Exercising their freedom, oh my! that you couldn't hide
They lived just south of Ullapool, and further north than Perth
But no matter where they parked, they always made it worth
Now this couple they liked to journey, to places so far from home
To York, Scarborough and Edinburgh, so capital in their roam
Where ever they went they took in the sights, so beautiful they grace
But every so often their caravan rocked, but never in a windy place
Their holiday nearly over, it's time to head back up the road
Passing places where their caravan rocked, their travelling home abode
They pass such lovely places, like Stirling and Callender
Stopping of at Granton On Spey, their holidays take them afar
Now very close to home, boo! it's work in a couple of days
But they don't mind, for their caravan rocked, without a wind to sway
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland-4.php
Trinidad
My island in the sun
Where my birthright belongs
My ancestors sail from far
... And there I was born
They came from India
Across the oceans
Work in the cane fields
And the plantation
Bring their curry spices
And Indian recipes to cook
Play their drum and dhantal
Sing and dance after work
Cooking roti on a tawa
Curry baigan and aloo
Dhal, rice and kuchela
Bara and channa too
How far Trinidad has come today
Together we aspire, together we achieve"
A small power in the world
With oil wealth up its sleeve
Free educations for
Every boy and girl
Mix with different races
From around the world
lord kitchener
The mighty sparrow
Brian Lara
And sundar popo
Going for a river lime
Cooking on the rock
Drinking we beer
And eating curry duck
c
The Beautiful beaches
Walking on the sands
Singing calypsos
Beating steel pans
La Brea pitch lake
Natural gas and petroleum
Sugar cane and molasses
Old oak and puncheon rum
Aloo choka, fried Plantain
Bel air bar be que
Bake and shark
And curry manicou
Princess town to san Fernando
Barrackpore to Cumuto
Port of Spain to Mayaro
scarborough tobago
Most southerly islands
Of the Caribbean,
The none stop breeze
Of the Atlantic oceans
This is my island in the sun
It’s mine.
Not the shooting in the bus that killed their brothers.
Not to avenge.
It’s mine.
But I pray that our leader just give it away.
It’s just mine.
The creatures thrive in most waters anyway.
I fear that if these corals are deprived of them
And the fish and the oil and the greens too.
What’ll be left of our poor dwelling if they drop it again?
We don’t have the bombs.
Only crops.
We don’t have missiles.
Only smiles.
Give it to them.
It’s just mine.
Though it’s closer to our shores
It’s good to give anyway.
God says stoop and you’ll be glorified.
Let’s just give and be glorified in the end.
It’s just mine that they want.
We have waters heavenly enough to swim in.
We have fishes delectable enough to feed on.
We may not have enough oil to run our cars
But we have colossal fields to grow our crops
And a giving God.
(inspired by the budding conflict between the Philippines and China on Scarborough Shoal)
(c) 07-27-2012
The war was finally over,
so Parsley, Sage, Rosemary
and Thyme were all waiting
in anticipation by the clover,
standing in the town square
all dressed up to the nines,
wearing their bodice gowns and
bonnets trimmed with lace and ribbons,
and talking amongst themselves
while looking at the clock tower time,
finally hearing the sound
of trotting horses hoofbeats,
while the soft beating of
their heartbeats steadily increased,
their men in uniforms riding
up and quickly disembarking,
running up to their ladies while
they all cried and hugged one another,
the ladies searching their
brave mens eyes and faces,
looking for signs of war,
signs of scars and anguish,
wondering if their men will
ever be the same,
noticing in their eyes,
the constant look of pain,
slowly walking arm in arm
home with them past the
Yorkshire military war graves,
while they patted their
women's pregnant belly's
in the midst of a spring rain...
My dream has come true,
Today the greatest day of my life,
Turning over the opened sign,
Yes! I thought! It’s my cafe,
My own place!
Right on the busy seaside edge,
Scarborough people love to come,
With beautiful views,
Everything ready!
The menu says!
Sit down! Eat!
Try! Delicious homemade treats!
Roasted chicken!
Yorkshire puddings, and meets!
Vegetables, salads, or quiche,
Chips, mashed or roast potatoes,
Soups and a roll,
Cream and jam scones,
Or different cakes,
Teas and coffee,
As well as healthy options,
Vegetarian types,
At reasonable prices!
Come! Drop in for a meal,
Or just a snack!
We welcome you back,
Family business friendly and polite,
It’s a great meeting place!
Hope you enjoy my food!
Have a good holiday!
Wendy’s !! Opened !! Now !!
04/09/2016
La Fête foraine de Scarborough
For the anonymous medieval poet
and Simon & Garfunkel - in admiration
************
Allez-vous à Scarborough fête foraine ?
Persil, sauge, romarin et thym
Parlez de moi à une fille d'antan
Elle fut jadis mon amie intime
Dites-lui de me coudre un Cambric chemise
Persil, sauge, romarin et thym
Sans bordure ni de la finesse
Et sûr elle restera mon amie intime
Dites : faites-le dans une ruelle de sycomore
Persil, sauge, romarin et thym
Et le recueillir dans un panier des fleurs
Ainsi elle restera mon amie intime
Dites : lavez-le dans ce puit sec
Persil, sauge, romarin et thym
Où l'eau ne monte pas ni pluie tombe raide
Ainsi elle restera mon amie intime
Dites : trouvez-lui un acre de terre
Persil, sauge, romarin et thym
Entre les flots et sur le rivage sableux
Ainsi soit-elle mon amie intime
Scarborough Fair
Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
For once she was a true love of mine
Have her make me a cambric shirt
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Without no seam nor fine needle work
And then she'll be a true love of mine
Tell her to weave it in a sycamore wood lane
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
And gather it all with a basket of flowers
And then she'll be a true love of mine
Have her wash it in yonder dry well
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
where water ne'er sprung nor drop of rain fell
And then she'll be a true love of mine
Have her find me an acre of land
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Between the sea foam and over the sand
And then she'll be a true love of mine
© Translation : T. Wignesan - Paris, April 12, 2019
Gesturing, in the scarborough fair,
Behind the ears, tucking those black and white hair, he shall eat the pain and fight the fear...
The black nails which outgrow from his white hands, lets the people stand and look at his absurdities...
The pain he describes in his absurdity, to the people, he displays his melancholy...
Falls he, breaking down in tears he got through fate, rises he and never speaks, acts sedate.
Paid he is the coins with the rusted brass, for displaying his melancholy, in absurdities...
Laughs he, as the tear slides down till his lips, turns he, wipes his tear as the crowd strips... Smiles he, as he reminiscences his dears, he gets up and dances again, forgetting those tears.
(November, 2013)