“Off went the Postman, Toodle-oo! In his uniform of postal blue…”
—Allan Ahlberg, The Jolly Postman
RED CARDINAL
The
heavy bird landing
on his heart,
with joyful wings -
an angel’s.
As the dearly departed,
her name was uttered
in golden pen,
pronounced…
and it began.
The miracle, bright red!
The postal delivery
fed
the imagination
of the brave little postman,
not so little, instead,
not so unsteady -
his legs fed
by miles of mourning,
but he kept on going,
not looking back.
BUT
here he pauses,
admiring
the plumage
of this healthy bird,
its claws,
like a ruby ring,
round his finger - the
mother lode
comforting
to a
heartbroken soul.
If you want to give people the slip
In England, years ago, you'd say,
I'm off. Toodle Pip,
If you are with a mate
With whom you are in tune
Toodle OO old chum
I'll be seeing you soon
Ta Ta, for now
Or TTFN
I'll probably see you again,
I don't know why I wrote this verse
It made me feel quite sad and terse
The French say the romantic au revoir
It rolls off the tongue
It's the best Ta Ta I've heard so far.
are we jealous or mediocre
no shows won’t know
class dismissed on with the show
more than one hand to clap
less than two fingers to snap
great minds work trenches
keepin’ track of one’s senses
as we trolley through space
last stop’s a perfect place
people share thoughts across lands
oceans, seas and golden sands
seems value of life caught in a twirl
must be the why’s and ways of the world
we’ve much to give to help others live
didn’t get the memo to forget and forgive
woe is the world with much askew
sheeple still sheeple no matter what we do
have a nice day and toodle-oo
Words escape me, Away they go,
Where they go to, I don't know.
Flying off to pastures new
Until they are completely out of view.
I'm feeling sad and blue
I expect you all are too
We've had enough
Of this Covid stuff
It's time to say toodle-oo
Toodle-oo ! Much I ride on holy rays,
Into the abyss, into gaiety of space,
Dwell over the illumination of divine,
Much is poetry too joyful and to twine.
En route, I grasped the origin of motion,
To attest the course of every emotion,
Remote, sturdy, destructive and decline,
Much is poetry too joyful and to twine.
The first-fruits held in the hand of a quean,
Not for me, a mortal so eager and too keen,
There’s a quest for what’s better, to sin or to sign,
Much is poetry too joyful and too joyfully twine.
But there’s the other hand, resolute in essence,
The hand that brings the balance and the sense,
All that starry sunshine straightened in a long line,
Much is poetry too joyful and too joyfully twine.
(a lighter-hearted parody of the masterpiece poem “The Raven” by Edgar Allan Poe)
Once upon a noonday sunny, while I smiled at something funny
In the park where children play and suitors woo,
’Midst the sound of subtle flapping, suddenly I got a crapping;
On my cheek I felt it slapping, warm and wet and slimy, too,
And my uncontrolled reaction to the foul, repugnant goo
Was a squeamish “Eww-ew-ewww!”
Soon my shock assumed a passion of a duly fiercer fashion,
For the bough above disclosed a damning clue:
There a shapely dove was lurking, all her guilt and duty shirking,
Unconcerned and coyly smirking, just to see what I would do.
“Fiend!” I cried, “You’ll feel my vengeance!” but this only made her coo,
Sighing softly, “Toodle-oo.”
Whereupon, with madness growing, I picked up a stone for throwing,
As but slightly farther off she lightly flew,
But my aim was rash confusion and it met with no conclusion,
So in spite of my delusion there was nothing I could do.
Now my heart will not get over how she crooned her calm adieu:
“Toodle-ooo-oo, toodle-oo.”
There once was an emigrant from Peru
Who couldn't master the art of kazoo---
It got stuck in his gums
He poured in some rum---
And now he can play 'Toodle-oo.'
Spring is in the past, toodle-oo
Happy of summer satori
Now enlighten in my eyes thru
I hear footsteps in its glory
In sunshine of summer debut
Following today's new found day
Birds in the trees, swinging, and sing
Drifting on natures, cool breath spray
O' desir'ng heart for blossoms bring
Fall'ng to the ground in disarray
Watching leaf down, in bed of brown
Summer crack of forest unrest
With many a leaves being blown
Lightness of the moon, moving west
Flowers, shadows, creeping alone
Accomplishing something plenty you got
Captured as a whole in your life snapshot
Takes after a Kodak moment caught
On the screen, pictures flicker a·do
Everyone smiling, life happenings in view
Great im·ag·ings, moments in time, toodle-oo
Are creations from the moment shows
If tis' not develop 'n compose
Give it again, one's best shot dose
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