GEOFF: A Whet Pirouette Poem
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furry, spry squirrel, Geoff
Chaucer he doth channel
"Come and 'whet thine whistle'."
"Poof! abracadabra!"
Really?
Now Georgie,
you're silly!
be smiley,
beguilely!
Categories:
chaucer, 12th grade, irony,
Form: Other
Somewhere in the fog is Chaucer's prologue
to those Canterberry tales.
Ms. Layton I must thank for storing it
in my memory bank which of late seems
to have paled.
No offense to Mr. Chaucer but it's way past
time to toss her before this old brain is derailed.
For some day soon I may stutter with so much
extra brain clutter but Chaucer's prologue
it seems I have nailed.
Categories:
chaucer, 9th grade, education,
Form: Light Verse
Geoffry Chaucer served as a page
first poet of ye olde English age
His Canterbury tales quite a feat
a work never did complete
Categories:
chaucer, people, poetry,
Form: Clerihew
Morning At Work
Impaired by his tremors
And a troublesome cough,
He turned fur into felt
Before cooling things off.
He drooled once or twice
And grew cold in his bones,
But he shaped all the felt
Into all of the cones.
Noon
His 'venomous vipers'
Grew restless again
And woke as the toxins
Played games with his brain.
He began to see strange things
And quickly grew scared
When the writing desk swooped
Like a ravenous bird.
Aware that his dark mind
Was now playing tricks,
He quit work forever
At ten shillings past six.
Night
He sat in The Tabard
Where he found time to think.
His skin had turned orange
As he drowned in his drink.
He recalled the sad day
His wife took off her ring
And with her cards on the table
Left to marry a king.
He pined for his daughter
And the party he'd planned
But she followed her mother
To that far-away land.
Later That Night
While carrying a tea tray
Upstairs to his bed
He tripped over his hat
He'd shook off with his head.
He finally came to
Around six the next night
But from that moment on
All his world was not right.
Categories:
chaucer, drink, fantasy, imagery, literature,
Form: Narrative
Have you met my cat named Chaucer?
His naughtiness will steal your heart,
He has milk in his own saucer,
And as you'll see, he's very smart;
He plays around the garden green
With his favourite woolly ball,
He knows how to keep himself clean,
He purrs and runs around the hall;
He curls up near the warm fireplace,
When he wants to take a quick nap,
When he mews with his cutie face,
All you'd want to do is clap-clap;
So you see, Chaucer's a smart cat,
He knows when it's his supper time,
He will sit upon his red mat,
And have his fish before bedtime.
08/10/18
Categories:
chaucer, cat, smart,
Form: Rhyme
I walked the rails out of my town this day and saw many things.
Train tracks are different marking a way that is often rank.
Weeds are here seen to conceal trash and rubbish a wild wind brings.
Building has bare back to rails with its loading dock being blank,
old sad car stored in yard having house owned and kept by a crank.
Street fronts are different, laid out for automobiles and such.
See there's an empty glass bottle unbroken some person drank.
Rail's path is lonesome trek; I doubt if I love it very much.
Categories:
chaucer, angst,
Form: Rhyme
Your yen two wol slee me sodenly
Surrounded by warm sand
Black pools deep as the
Cold in your face
Your hand
With emollient grace
Will cut the wire
Carved then polished
Hair that twists as
In a Spring flood
Your two eyes will slay me suddenly
Categories:
chaucer, body,
Form: Free verse
Chaucer and a Cup and Saucer
I just had been reading some Chaucer
When I picked up a cup from its saucer
Looked below and by chance saw Chaucer's name
Would this help me find much fortune and fame?
Now could it really be that Canterbury Tails
Have been hard to read when the light fails
And one was a tall tale about a parsonigin
Who was first to come up with name Carcinogen.
Chaucer's style was rather nonchalant
All of his handsomeness others would haunt
With clothes full of ruffles, buttons and bows
And what is else only haven now knows.
When Chaucer wrote, it was with a vengeance
Which in those days was only worth two pence
Later held his book and it around was swirling
Then later sold it for around two pound sterling.
Book was dirty so we washed it with a bath
And am not quite whether it was have or hath
Finally, after they reached a happy accord
Mine eyes saw glory coming from the Lord.
James Thomas Horn
Categories:
chaucer, humorous,
Form: Couplet