Long Gloucester Poems
Long Gloucester Poems. Below are the most popular long Gloucester by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gloucester poems by poem length and keyword.
Beyond the bay the sun peeked over waves;
calm belied what destiny would tell.
A statue peers where sailors served and gave,
so far from Gloucester shores where seagulls yell.
So far from sheltered harbor's gentle swells.
Undaunted sailors dared the Flemish Cap -
too far, as nature mixed a hopeless trap.
Like hungry beasts tempt fate to catch their prey
and stray beyond their tribal hunting grounds;
the George's Bank was left to stern that day
to go where surely greater catch abounds.
But while their hold was filled with bounty found,
two angry storms swirled in a deadly dance
and left the Andrea Gail without a chance.
Her captain turned for port but could not know
such wrath of nature blocked their pathway home,
and all the crew on wings of Angels glowed -
the face of God to trust and not to roam.
Though oft in tumult's grasp they will bemoan
and think to sell their souls on devil's waves,
yet safe in Heaven's grasp they will be brave.
RIP October 28, 1991
She is a beauty with her vaulted ceilings and cloisters.
Has been parading about for over a thousand years
Showing off her English gothic architecture.
Cathedral Church of St. Peter and the Holy and Invisible Trinity.
We have seen her in films and movies – The Hollow Crown,
Doctor Who, Sherlock, and Harry Potter.
She houses at Gloucester, Gloucestershire, UK.
She was once a pilgrimage for Christian seekers.
King Henry the Eighth established her current choir in 1539.
Today her choir boasts thirty-eight choristers and twelve adult singers.
So when you walk through, you are a historian, so much has gone on.
She is magnificent with her beautiful stained glass windows.
Her organ was constructed in sixteen hundred and sixty-six.
She has been the site of graduations, coronations, and weddings.
In medieval times she held daily worship sung by monks of the abbey.
Gloucester Cathedral, a gorgeous example of what architects can do.
Blue Cheese
There is Cheshire, Red Leicester, Emmental and Brie,
Double Gloucester and Edam, a delight for all to see,
Stilton, Caerphilly, or Cheddar mature and mild,
Lots of subtle flavours to drive my taste bud’s wild.
There is Lancashire, Wensleydale or Derby to please,
So why, oh’ why, would you serve me Blue Cheese?
That smelly Blue cheese you know I cannot stand,
Give me Shropshire Mild, or something rather bland.
I don’t want that stinking dairy, in my salad box,
Opening the lid to an odour of sweaty socks.
So, hear my request I am begging of you please,
No more, no more, of that smelly blue cheese.
I believe I fell asleep last year at the cusp of a new agenda.
As a new virus took root, I found myself eradicated from society
in a way I never imagined.
All of a sudden instead of immersing myself in music and dance
and coffee talk chats, I found myself immersed in diluted contact
such as social distancing and Zoom;
mother-in-law dies
so does my bird named, Ringo
we bury them both
The same day we bury our Gloucester canary in the backyard,
we buried my mother in law, as I partook in a family funeral
miles away from home, I realized that the sun non-selectively
continued to shine no matter what . So much has happened
in such a short span, I feel it is out of my hands.
six months later
still waiting for the vaccine,
life can be so mean
British-born Kenyan
adventureress globe-trotter
one of the first bush pilots
aviatrix authoress game-spotter
a woman before her time
through and through
who had simultaneous affairs
with Prince Henry, Duke of Gloucester
(son of George V)
his older brother Edward, Prince of Wales
(later Edward VIII)
and Denys Finch Hatton too
the Kenya Derby a six-time winner
as an unrivaled thoroughbred racehorse trainer
whom my Dad at EAR&H well knew
as whenever she was able
it was he she would speak to
regarding rail transport of her stable
in 1936 she was the first female
to fly against the wind
let's set the record straight
to get it right
the Atlantic Ocean non-stop solo
from east to west with the night
Any foodie on the brink
Of getting moody thinks
Of the dear dairy panacea
Culinary kinks
Cultural links
Gourmet high jinx
Where the nods & the winks
Go to the food of the Gods
The sexy minx that really stinks
A noble global endeavour
Palette caged by a rare
Cave aged Gruyere
Arty farty dolcelatte party
Comte & cheddar
Smutty nutty double header
Camembert flair
Prouder of Gouda
Stilton to share
Or louder Parmesan fan
Even when it’s powder?
Aristocratic blue vein
More a Roquefort sort
Or St Augur holds court
Emphatic stench & stain
Tester of Red Leicester
What's better than Feta
Double Gloucester no imposter
Boursin or St Paulin on the roster
Snarl if there's no emmental
Pecorino the Ferrari Dino
Halloumi whispers consume me
New coup for Exmoor blue
Hail the tale of Wensleydale
Willy nilly grab a slab of Philly
Wealthier folks say Philadelphia
On the grounds sounds healthier
Right now is Ricotta somehow hotter
Or creamy dreamy Burrata smarter
Kowtow to Yarg from Celtic Kernow
Homage to fromage global trotter
Whatever floats your boat
High roller Gorgonzola
Maybe Goat gets your vote
Or those in the know
Gloat..chose sheep & Manchego
Young or well hung
Given time in the cellar
Yippee glee of smelly brie
But won’t sneer at Paneer
Mozzarella can be stellar
Even give a damn about Madame Edam
Stringy Raclette the best bet yet
Or the goo of Fondue more you
Can't sledge a wedge of Old Amsterdam
Primula still familiar
Wary of the not rated
Scary squirting lube
You squeeze with ease
Flirting fairy out of a tube
Ill fated.. hated pre grated
Diced into a nice cube
Drastic or fantastic vices
Chose those plastic elastic slices
Could plea for some Dairy Lea
Fell under that Babybel spell
Or pray tell a stash of well maybe
Laughing cow oui Le Vache qui Rit
Have you ever seen the satanic snake?
A fierce cheetah hunting with no mistake
A bloodthirsty wolf in the black sheep's clothes
How would it be if you find all in close?
Richard the third, the most villainous Duke
Known as a treacherous and selfish kook
Holds the status of the Duke of Gloucester
A saboteur, schemes as an imposter
Possess an ugly build with a hunchback
Hides his flaws as a professional flack
Feels menial for his deformity
Handles things with extreme enormity
A power monger and it's very clear
Cares not even to kill his near and dear
Strategically waits for chance and grabs
With his honeyed words, he always backstabs
By hook or by crook, wants to seize the throne
Cheats Lady Anne with his convincing tone
Spreads rumours to showcase the heirs unfit
Executes those who thwart with his outwit
When the battle at Bosworth in full swing
Stanley takes a U-turn and quits the ring
Unhorsed Richard cries out losing the source
'A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse"
A ruthless tyrant with no repentance
For him, there isn't any moral sentence
The Bard's 'wicked uncle' gets the title role
Invites the crowds' interest on the whole
[Dearest American friends... Gloucester is pronounced ‘Glosster’]
*
A sleepy old town in deep darkest Gloucester
A stranger in town must be an imposter
He doesn’t eat and he doesn’t drink
And he speaks to a man with his lips out of sync
The man said you speak with an alien tongue
The last word he heard... our invasion’s begun
The man’s dying thought as he went off to heaven
Was that was three words but his lips moved for seven
There is a lake with an island with trees on
And a real pretty woman appears for no reason
She’s stood by a man who’s incredibly ripped
He’s a scientist and to the waist he is stripped
He looks at the woman and gives her a gun
And he doesn’t ask why her shirt is undone
She aims at the stranger, why are you here
The scientist tells her, it aint for the beer
He said I’ve not seen him, don’t know where he’s from
But there is a planet I call Skoxalom
And as there’s some music to give us a scare
I think he’s a Skox and he’s just come from there
Soon there’ll be hundreds, perhaps thousands more
I know this although it’s not happened before
We could get some jets to nuke him real good
Or maybe just stab him with stakes made of wood
Or stick him with virus to poison his blood
Or bury him in that convenient mud
Or take and keep him caged up in my lab
To find out if maybe he’s really a crab
The woman said stranger I’m struck by your silence
I’m thinking that maybe you’re scheming some violence
The stranger then muttered through out of sync lips
I do not speak for its not in the script
And then it rained, it was just a light drizzle
The alien died as they watched his skin sizzle
The alien sagged and fell into a bog
The girl and the scientist went for a snog
A banjo man cheered at the Skox’s destruction
The words on the screen said...
‘A Netphlix Production.’
Tongue twister line:
From the rustic rover to Samuel Sanders, they try to tickle the tongue with tricky tongue twisters.
1. A rustic rover round the ricks ran restlessly, and restive, he rushed to the nearby rural rill to reinvigorate himself. Then whoever he met, he ranted and raved with him or her with reckless arrogance. Revivified and rejuvenated, the vagrant straggler across the riverbank rumbled and rumbled , and trounced a regal recluse that triggered a fiery ruction. Then another rowdy ragamuffin slapped him hard and a furious rabble raised an unprecedented rumpus.
2. Samuel Sanders, a saucy salesman with sable brow, had an ancestral house in Sussex, but since he was a man of gypsy psyche, of late he strayed into Surrey and settled there for squarely six months, and then set out to straggle across the Sicilian seashore seeking psychological solace in the serene and suave sound of the seawaves.
3. You can't put a better bit of butter on your platter because a martyr did shatter the packet of your butter as it did welter in the gutter, but that waiter did cater you this later, muttering about an utter butter-hater from Gloucester with bitter hauteur.
19th November, 2016
(Charles Philip Arthur George - b. 14 November 1948)
I had a cousin called Charles, said Aunty Olive.
Nice young man. That's him on our TV.
That's not cousin: it's King, said Aunty Lucy. It's King Charles.
Now watch it all on this TV. It's a TV, Olive, a TV.
It's nineteen fifty-three, isn't it? asked Aunty Olive.
I remember Victoria. There she is.
She's dead, said Aunty Lucy. And you meant Elizabeth. She's gone, too.
Now look at those oils. They're from the Mount of Olives.
Very posh, said Aunty Elsie. Olives.
Nothing to do with Aunty Olive though - she's here, right here. Ha-ha!
Do be quiet, said Aunty Olive. We're all different olives. Ha-ha!
And this boy is Prince Charles. Prince Charles.
Prince Harry, Olive, Aunty Elsie corrected. Not Charles.
Harry's the King's second son. That red-headed one.
Now, said Aunty Lucy, you must have heard of this chrism oil on this TV?
Oils of sesame, rose, jasmine, cinnamon.
Oh, yes, said Aunty Elsie. I've heard of them.
Neroli, too, and that benzoin, amber and orange blossom.
Oh, you do show off, our Elsie, said Aunty Olive.
We're not that Mr Shakespeare's three witches, you know!
But look who's here, Aunty Olive added:
That Prince What's His Name chap, that Princess royal.
Yes, said Aunty Elsie: Duke of Gloucester, Viscount Linley,
Prince George - that nice boy - and Princess Charlotte, it never stops.
And nor will this TV show, said Aunty Olive.
So let's watch this King George, er, Frederick, er . . .
Charles! Aunty Lucy bellowed.
Charles! Charles! Charles! Charles! Charles!
(6 May 2003)
(You may wish to see also "Trooping the Colour" of June 2022 and "Obsequies for a Queen" of September 2022; and Elsie appears also in "Aunty Elsie's Bathroom" and "A Rubbing of Hands")