Details |
Rubaiyat
|
STOPPING BY WOODS ON A HUNGRY EVENING
Whose wood it was I thought I knew
His house had a lovely smell of stew
He would not see me stopping there
While he was cooking his fresh fondue
My little horse must’ve wondered where
And who would his own lunch prepare?
Or would he have to eat only hay
And maybe with another horse to share?
He knew I’d smelled some souffle
Asked if we would stay and what I’d say
The main sound was our rumbling tums
So we came back another day
The wood’s not lovely when teatime comes
Those promises to keep for all my chums
Meant miles before we ate just crumbs
And before our fingers were far less numb
2 January 2020
(Apologies to Robert Frost )
|
Details |
Rubaiyat
|
IF IT’S AUTUMN, CAN WINTER BE FAR BEHIND?
Whose woods these are I’ve no idea
But my little horse sure thinks he’s queer
His house ain’t in the village no more
He promised he wasn’t stopping here.
Between the woods and frozen shore
Live many people rich and poor -
On the darkest evening of the season
They watch at every window, every door.
They think the weather’s dreadful freezin’
But feel that it is almost treason
To not watch woods fill up with snow;
Doing otherwise seems contrary to reason.
Bells a-shake, dark, deep in the snow,
Their heroes murmur sounds so low.
For these people Frost is someone they know:
There’s Jack outside and Robert below.
……………………………………………………………………………..
NOTE:
I simply couldn’t resist a parody of Robert Frost.
|
Details |
Rubaiyat
|
FROSTY THE POEM MAN
Whose woods these are I’ve no idea
But my little horse sure thinks he’s queer
His house ain’t in the village no more
He promised he wasn’t stopping here.
Between the woods and frozen shore
Live many people rich and poor -
On the darkest evening of the season
They watch at every window, every door.
They think the weather’s dreadful freezin’
But feel that it is almost treason
To not watch woods fill up with snow;
Doing otherwise seems contrary to reason.
Bells a-shake, dark, deep in the snow,
Their heroes murmur sounds so low.
For these people Frost is someone they know:
There’s Jack outside and Robert below.
……………………………………………………………………………..
NOTE:
I simply couldn’t resist writing another parody of Robert Frost.
22 March 2020
|
Details |
Rubaiyat
|
STOPPING FOR FLEAS
Whose fleas these are I think I know
The louse lives in the village though
He will not see me scratching here
As I roll around tired in the snow
My little horse must think it queer
To have a nest of fleas there in his ear
Between his ears his head starts to ache
As other fleas start to come near
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is something he can take
The only other medicine I keep
Is powdered corn made into flake
The fleas are horrid, black, and creep
But I have promised him corn in heap
He smiles and eats before I sleep
And smiles and eats before I sleep.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Note
This rubaiyat is obviously taken from that of Robert
Frost in STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Entered in Joann Grisetti's Contest Copy Cat Contest
|
Details |
Rubaiyat
|
Is it today now or yesterday still?
Is it time already for morning pill?
hazy light filters in through the window,
as crimson gathers over distant hill!
Can’t tell early dawn from the evening glow,
for me time stands still and the day is slow,
from downstairs sound of kitchen plying food,
my rumbling hunger signals time to go!
I walk in to dinning hall, panelled wood,
smiling faces greet me as sweet as could,
Coffee, bread, favourite jam and honey,
they wish me a morning, morning so good!
Some days I get visitors too many,
Some other days there are hardly any,
young girl comes often with two little tots,
When daughter’s name fails you, it’s not funny!
My son is very tall has grown so smart,
Like his dead mother very good at heart,
He brings little ones to play with grandpa,
they ride on my back playing horse and cart!
flickering thoughts..how memory ages raw,
life as it flows has to obey time’s law,
yet Love finds a way to overcome this flaw,
Love finds a way to overcome this flaw!
Written 06/August/2020
Honourable mention
Sponsor Brian Strand
‘Strand New any form any theme(18)’ Contest
|
Details |
Rubaiyat
|
The Ruba’iyat of Créteil Lake – Part Twenty-Four
A chill-marrow scowling wind rushed up abysms of the South
Rumpled Lady Lake’s sparse dripping tresses splashing up Her mouth
Gushing fountain raced down the waterfall crumpling eye-lashes
And slurped the choppy tide into swishing slopping mammoth
Trillion cursing harpy screams raged down her full furrowed loins
And set feathers wildly clapping where Embryo Islet joins
Pubic Isle: aborted marsh of reeds and rushes cypress grave
Where now the avifauna scatter chased by mythic Tiglons
Some alien monster wild has escaped its abysmal rest
And shakes and shatters the moribund year as if in jest
Doors slam windows swing and crack as the beast goes howling past
Is Zhen the Eldest Son still snug in autumn’s arms as guest?
Over the stranded cases of milling flesh cracks a rude blast
Has Qian woken up his heir with the thunder clap at last?
Was it the fire-cracker to summon false Fire Horse Year?
Something’s let loose in this air bodes no omen fair to last!
The Commandant retraced heavy steps to the Chief’s guarded car
Tense reddened eyes sought relenting signs in faces wrought by far
Yet who in all this surging melée gave a thought to the Bard
Oh! Where might Ol’ Khayyam be hiding! Alone! Or on some star!
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
|