Don’t wake him up yet! Shansi said with a snicker.
Orinoco needs his sleep, for his soft-hearted ticker!
So Great Uncle Bulgaria gave Orinoco fifteen minutes more.
But then you have to leave for school, he said. Right out the door!
Miss Adelaide will be waiting, and you know she is fine.
This school mistress wanted the Wombles there in good time.
Tobermory had to fix Bungo’s bike before they could leave.
Bungo had a fine idea to put on a weird new blowing sleeve.
Tomsk was raring to go, he loves to drive through the woods.
Yazz told them to wait up, she had to primp up her girly goods.
Wellington lagged a bit, for he has such a scientific mind.
He stops along the way to gather everything that he can find.
There's only 17 words in the english language tendered
Most have 153 meanings, each day of those entered
Seems some disagree
But got proof I decree
How many meanings for the simple word “present”
Over many years of great holidays
to the English lakes we would go
never a year passed always be there
such beauty around, inspired pen to flow
Many a time we would think wishing
of moving to English lake district so good
this would be a dream miles too far
the cost far too high, oh if we only could!
Dreamt often when on lakeside walk
stopped at cottage on the lake so awesome
this would be heaven indeed to live there
especially when the flowers would blossom
We would sometimes rent a cottage
just for week to feel what it be like
live in a cottage so lovely and bright
beautiful thoughts filled every sight
But reality came home to roost
it's not to be for us anyway
so the good Lord knows our needs
that's sufficient for here we stay
(Just thinking back to Christine and my unfulfilled dreams of living in the English lake district but it was not to be so content ourselves in God's goodness to us where we are now. )
There's only about 17 words in the english language
Most have 153 meanings, each day of those entered
Seems some disagree
But got proof I decree
How many meanings for the simple word “present”
LOL
Simple question was asked but they fumble;
What are you going to do with your life?
Most of them babble, to speak they struggle;
Appears they don't know how to handle strife.
Don't have idea for their future day
lost their direction that shows confusion.
Answer to question is simple if they
apply their minds, there can't be illusion.
It's to find what makes them happy, see what
interests them most, what helps them to let
their creativity flourish; Don't shut
once known, go ahead, take next step, heart set.
But, don't be afraid to believe self, trust
it'll bring happiness; in HIM now entrust.
Addressing a student looking in the air
The teacher asked, "The English Channel is where?"
He said, "Well let's see..."
"I do watch TV,"
"But I haven't heard of that channel on there!"
There was a gentleman from England
Who boasted how his land was so grand
Big Ben, Scotland Yard
The Changing of the Guard
It's too bad all the food is so bland!
The English science made a big discovery at last:-
A girl with very large and solid ears,
If wind is blowing straight towards her rear,
She get to school of her as twice as fast.
A picture postcard for all to see
sits down in the valley to view
a small market town among the lakes
real beauty spot always form a queue
Hill walkers come from near and far
make it their base before they trek
it's at base of lovely Derwent Water
where you can sail around it's neck
So many beautiful fells surround it
Blencathra, Catbells, Helvelyn and Skiddaw
these only a few of it's beauty spots
many an artist paint what they saw
Many years ago living nearby
poetic gems penned by Wordsworth
drew poetic word pictures so fine
encaptured many hearts across the earth
Such a place of quietness and peace
enjoy a coffee and cake reading a book
so many eating places to choose
or make a picnic by lakeside brook
There's also a theatre by the lake
go and see a musical or a play
lovely gardens with flowers nearby
sit among it's beauty to spend your day
Here indeed is God's picture book
showing His creation on display
what a picture what a photograph
full of colour no sight of any grey
By lane and path the English hedgerow,
In which so many wild things grow,
For centuries has crossed the land –
A world of nature, close at hand.
In Spring the blackthorn's cloaked in snow,
Its pure white blossoms first to show.
Warm breezes waft them to and fro,
Then Autumn brings the jet black sloe.
The blackbird, chaffinch, dunnock, wren,
Oft hidden from the sight of men,
All prosper in this habitat,
So suited to its purpose, that
A bountiful harvest supplies their needs,
With insects, hips, haws, sweet berries and seeds.
Go out fishing with your TROTT
Near the pond to the SWANN’s lot
Wait for the GALE to subside down
To pluck the onions from the ROOT
Enter the BROAD KITCHEN to
COOK
Ring the BELL to begin the feast
Eating the FINNS & it’s body parts
Along with omelet stuffed with ONIONS
Language is a virus
That lives in our soul.
That grows like an English Iris,
With no self-control.
Language is like the wind
It billows and blows.
It flows till the end
and it grows and grows.
Language is like love
That comes from within
That flies with the dove
and cant stop its spin.
Language is a Virus
That grows like an English iris.
The English Couple
They had a dream the old couple who came
to our hamlet, their dream was a tiny house
painted white and blue. A kitchen garden they
had, lettuce and tomatoes, carrots too, and
the gods smiled upon them, but not for long.
She got bad knees could not bend down,
he had back problem could no longer play golf
or tinker with his car; their garden became
a jungle, where weed strangled useful plants.
back to their own country they flew said to
come back soon, when wellbeing got better.
He died first in his sleep, she followed him into
eternity a month later. Their dream had been
so modest, white and blue
The English Couple
The English couple, I met in Porto, looked fragrant
and demurely, she wore a flowery dress and he
wore a white shirt and flannel trousers; and both
both sported a discreet tan. Clearly they didn´t
belong to the Algarve beach hugging masses who
must have deep tan to prove they have been on
holiday. It struck me they were erudite middle class
liberals, the types that read and often comments
in “The Guardian” I asked them if that was so,
they made a joke of it, which is an English way of
hiding ones embarrassment; we parted smilingly,
but I think I was right even though I served my
inquiry with an after taste of satire and with a light
touch of expensive red wine.
I have taught many subjects to many people in my career.
Whether I was teaching first year engineers to write an essay,
or bored sixth-graders the difference between composite and prime,
I never once doubted my abilities as a teacher.
I was passionate, caring, easy to understand, and always got my point across.
Or so I thought—
I learned otherwise one quiet afternoon in a village in Morocco.
I silently watched as my husband’s sister, to whom I had been teaching English,
repeatedly chanted “good night” to my dog, while waiting expectantly for her to “sit”.
My dog cocked her head to the side, in that way that only dogs can, with a sly grin on her face,
and if she could speak, I’m sure she would make a quip about not being sleepy.
I continued to watch without a word, I was speechless really,
and hoped for the sake of my career that my dog would get tired and sit.
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