Long Scarborough Poems

Long Scarborough Poems. Below are the most popular long Scarborough by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Scarborough poems by poem length and keyword.


When a Man Love a Woman

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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Premium Member Translation of the Canticle: Scarborough Fair By T Wignesan

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
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Quatrain

Are You Dreaming of Winning a Race?

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

Operation Yewtree

Our image of a future saint after his exit
this wonderful man we knew could fix it,
so generous with his time and finance
full of vigour, love, respect and romance,
to hospital patients a most welcome relation
gracious, certainly most favourite of our nation,
to many he could do no wrong, he was so good
Government rewarded him prestigious knighthood,
unbelievable reports for police to unravel 
that must be untrue about our Jimmy Savile,
our living hero the prince of Scarborough 
unknowing what evil this town did harbour,
the nation vehement to morn his death
on the day that he took his very last breath,
buried as requested facing the North Sea 
his victims spoke out their feelings set free,
within weeks of his funeral a nation in shock
loyal fans and supporters had to take stock,
horrified by the realisation of his evil actions 
removal of grave stone, alleviating distraction,
his ability to hide behind popularity and fame
now authorities began to play the blame game,
Jimmy Savile’s disgusting acts of abuse revealed
after so many years of evil  had been concealed,
now a nation hurting  expressing total disgust
over his unlawful insatiable unnatural lust,
British want no association and believe we should
remove name from honours list, revoke knighthood.

Composed by Roy Pett.
2/23/2018
© Roy Pett  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Island In the Sun

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


Premium Member Are Ye Goin' To Marry That Witch of a Dame - Counterfeiting the Canticle By T Wignesan

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
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Quatrain

Bram To Bran - Contest

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
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member News Fiasco Internationale

I looked in the paper, and guess what it said?
It read, "Panagiota is dead!
I quick turned on CNN.
News Alert! "Panagiota lost her head!"
Oh, I was more than mad!

So I went to Joe Scarborough on MSNBC.
He reported ever so gleefully..
"There is not,and never will a Panagiota be!

Don Lemon, Mr.Cool, just had a sip of water.
Then, burped and in a velvety, whisper uttered.
"Oh, Panagiota. Yes. She never mattered."

So why this rhyme, you ask? 
It's time for the media to take off their masks.
Show themselves for who they are, be given a 
check, shown the door and find other tasks.

I have never heard such lies from so many stations.
I can't stop the transfusion of lies drowning all the 
nations.

I just know there is a God, to answer to.
And I am glad I am not any of these manipulators.
Their day is coming my friend. They willingly forgot 
that God is bigger than any puny station.

And you bet, they will all have to pay one eternal due 
in a fiery end.
So be your own best friend.
Be a stand-up person.
There is no glory nor eternal joy in a harangue of baseless 
condemnations and allegations.


September 13. 2019

Premium Member The Caravan That Rocked

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
Form: Couplet

Mothers Day Tribute

October the 8th we said our goodbyes .
Im Still left sat here wondering why.
But today I'll come up to your tree.
And think of all the good memories.
How you kissed it better when I got hurt.
How u juggled bringing me up with work.
Holidays to Butlins or Scarborough 10 times
They were some on the best memories of mine.
The selfless sacrifices you always made.
To keep me safe with a smile on my face.
I never gave you the credit you were due.
I hope u know how much I love you.
I sat at your side n gave your head a kiss.
I cried a little but I made you a promise.
That I'd be strong an that I'd  do you proud.
I stumbled at first but I'm doing it now.
I wish I could see you for just a few hours.
For some advice or draw some of your power.
I had 39 mothers days with you by my side.
You'd open my naff presents an smile with pride.
Wee 50p ornaments that still sit in place. 
Or daffodils I procured from some place.
This one is the toughest cause I just want to say.
I love you mum an one more happy Mothers day
Form: Rhyme

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