Long Leicester Poems
Long Leicester Poems. Below are the most popular long Leicester by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Leicester poems by poem length and keyword.
We should only eat six sprouts at Christmas
Deem the council who are in Leicestershire
Its no joke, it’s a serious message at Xmas
To reduce waste and not make it higher
We must cut back on crisp pigs in blankets
And should only have three stuffing balls
Also cut back on spuds and fluffy Yorkshire puds
Gee I’m going to be climbing the walls!
I love to eat sprouts at my Christmas dinner
There will be NO sprout restriction for me
I’m rebelling; you may call me a sinner
There'll be piles of sprouts when I eat tea
Yes I’m going to load up my plate
Those officials can just go to hell
I’ll eat sprout after sprout after spout
And then let out a disgusting smell
The council’s intentions are honourable
Of that there are no doubts
But Leicester County Council
Keep your mitts off my Brussel sprouts!
12/21/17
Arsenal first Friday, always start well
New signings too, will give Leicester hell
Arsenal easy, next,
Liverpool in the early game, a win at a canter
Watford offer up more presents than Santa
Arsenal easy, Liverpool canter, next,
Chelsea at the Bridge a cert to crush Burnley
Untouchable last season, this is money for free
Arsenal easy, Liverpool canter, Chelsea a cert, next,
Man City away win, there’s simply no reason
Why Brighton won’t be relegation fodder this season
Arsenal easy, Liverpool canter, Chelsea a cert, Man City away, next,
Spurs to cane Newcastle, big gap in class
Don’t think the magpies are gonna last
Arsenal easy, Liverpool canter, Chelsea a cert, Man City away, Spurs pure class, last,
Man United on fire, all glitz and glamour
Scoring for fun, gonna stuff the hammers
Arsenal easy, Liverpool canter, Chelsea a cert, Man City away, Spurs pure class, United on fire,
Fifty quid on a six-fold, what could possibly go wrong
.
.
Arsenal Nil Leicester 1
.
.
Damn
Pop down to the shops Son
I need some bits and bobs
Just a few potatoes
And a dozen crusty cobs
While you’re there, you might as well
Get carrots and some greens
Some frozen peas, some sugar
And a tin of Heinz baked beans
Some tea, I think we need some
Minced beef for shepherds pie
A pound of cheese, the Leicester
We’ll give that one a try
We haven’t any biscuits
You know the ones I like
Only get two packets, mind
Be careful on your bike
When you get back I’ll do some
Bread and dripping for your tea
A slice of bread and scrape for you
And sausages for me
© John W Fenn 03-07-2009
Form:
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.
"My conscience hath a thousand several tongues,
And every tongue brings in a several tale,
And every tale condemns me for a villain."
(Richard, Act 5 Scene 3)The Tragedy of Richard The Third, Shakespeare
Richard the Third was an evil, tyrant, a murderer. Ugly and unloved, deformed and hateful.
Shakespeare wrote this grim play, long with words and lines, with meditations, and death,
to infuse in us Richard the Third's villainous short rise to power . . .
Richard III, confesses to murdering King Henry the VI. He ordered many others to be
murdered also or put in the Tower of London, for extended stays ?
He presents himself as the true heir. A gentle and kind man. Pretending to be modest,
devout and humble. Anyone who protests is executed, brutally.
He claims that two children the true heirs are illegitimate and orders that they be killed,
and so they are. With no one in his way, he claims the throne of England.
But, his dreams are full of the ghosts of his victims. He wakes screaming to Jesus for help.
He is alone in his misery, making him even more miserable.
He loses popularity as his ways become known. His followers are stepping back. No longer
supporting him. It is a matter of time . . .
On a battle field, he is unhorsed. Shakespeare pens his famous quote, "a horse, a horse,
my kingdom for a horse." He is killed on that battle field but by who ? Many tales are told.
A bit of history. Richard the Third's remains were found and confirmed, in a former Greyfriars
Friary in Leicester, England in September 2012. The bones did indicate a curve to the spine.
Later, he was reburied with a grand funeral where anyone can visit now . . . But, did he deserve
a grand funeral ?
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
My Valentine has a ticket to ride;
So London town beware!
New wings will carry her up north;
A pass to Leicester Square.
Let Big Ben toll and chime aloud;
St James's Park prepare;
The hustle of the Covent calls;
For her to stop and glare.
Our Festival halls a singing show;
But not a stage needs she;
For Shakespeare wets her rosy lips;
Or a lovely cup of tea.
A winking Thames will guide her way,
Along a South Bank charming;
For knowing swans will nod and sway;
To see again their darling.
And she indeed is friend in kind;
To changing guards and steads;
A wine bar to intrigue her sense;
But a wooden hut to feast!
She rides the tube - this surfing queen;
No palace holds her bound;
No chains to shackle regal wrists;
In no tower is she found.
Free as the wind, sweet honey bee;
She feeds my love in rations;
My desire for her will never fade;
But London is her passion!
In a short time, you will be my executioner.
Your actions shall be considered a favor.
You say to me “Lady, please forgive me”.
I, Mary Stuart, am grateful for your sympathy.
You are putting me out of my misery.
It was purely by providential chance,
that I should rule both Scotland and France.
My first bout with misfortune was the scene
where my French king husband Francois died at sixteen.
I would return to my native Scotland right away.
I faced subjection by my half-brother Earl of Moray.
James Stewart and John Knox scorned my presence.
Peace between Protestants and Catholics found no permanence.
With this problem, I became heavily involved.
During my reign, practically nothing could be solved.
My cousin Elizabeth has been a thorn in my side.
Her disdain and disfavor she chooses not to hide.
Elizabeth proposed with blatant effrontery,
that I marry the Earl of Leicester, Robert Dudley.
Such a marriage would bring an English-Scottish alliance.
I would have been a fool to submit to compliance.
My marriage to my cousin was out of defiance.
I thought I could love Henry, Lord Darnley.
However, Henry’s actions became a liability.
He helped kill one of the noblest men I would know.
Scottish Lords conspired to murder David Rizzio.
During my reign, troubles compounded all the while.
Soon I found myself a ruler without a nation.
Adversaries forced me to agree to abdication.
I would be placed into imprisonment during exile.
My involvement in the Babington Plot is the reason
why I am being executed for high treason.
Please let your blow be both swift and clean.
It shall release me from this ignominious scene.
I wanted England and Scotland to live in harmony.
May I be remembered this way throughout history.
Mary's son, James VI of Scotland eventually became King James I of a united England and Scotland.