They came
They marched
They honoured
Their newly crowned monarch
on Coronation Day
King Charles the third
and Camilla his Queen
in the Golden State Coach
the World for to see
Their marching
Not one single foot out of place
Their music
Was truly spectacular
So before they go
I hope they know
to each one I say
on this auspicious day
~
despite the rain
~
despite the cloud
~
Today I felt so very proud
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FOR NO ONE DOES IT BETTER…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written on 6th May 2023
After witnessing King Charles 111 and Queen Camilla’s Coronation
and the incredible feat of the marching troupes who were truly spectacular
Contest A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE no 1217 Poetry Contest
Sponsor Brian Strand
7th Place in Brian's PREMIERE contest
Life is a three-ring circus
Thrice around and around
The jolly merry-go-round
Fun the ultimate purpose
Mesmerized at this and that
Laughter for every age
Exotic animals in a cage
Used to being stared at
Rides speeding up and down
Through hoops and loops
Joining dancing troupes
Circumventing any sad frown
Lining up sideshow freaks
Presenting a two-headed man
Sexy dancers doing the cancan
A bearded lady that wreaks
As he flaunts treacherous highwire act
Ringmaster shows off painted elephants
Clowns making fun of fake elegance
Big top forever designed to attract
AP: 1st place 2025
Farcical characters of ill gestures,
they be no friends of mime
Mute clown suits
wearing viol marionette smiles
all of the puppet string time
I tell you, of a silent truth,
those pretzel-tongue jester troupes
are theatrical buffoons
spoofing on a global would trivial comedy stage
These ol' pantomime hucksters,
dipstick lip syncing on babble timer delay rage —
Crying out loud,
them cold quip cheeky blusters
never were any spoken for friends of mine
Just some dumb glow, dim enemies ...
who always pearly grinned a dumber shine
Behold the brightly decorated leaves
Emblazoned through the hills in splendid views,
And carpeting the earth in bronzing sheaves;
Unveiled in scarlet, amber, golden hues.
The dancing leaves waltz blithely on the trees.
In scattered troupes they flutter to and fro.
Fantastic actors swirl upon the breeze
Unfurled across the stage of Autumn's show.
Let us applaud the majesty of Fall.
For far too short a time does she display
All nature's varied shades in her ballet.
Let us applaud the majesty of Fall.
Let us applaud the majesty of Fall.
9.10.18
Contest: Beautiful Fall
In the silent night
When the cold wind lends an ear
And the skies wait to hear
The call of the night crickets.
That time of the night
When the stars gather in troupes
to watch over the earth
I close my eyes
And imagine your voice
The geniality of your words
Summons my thought to a stand still.
Till my pastel eyes decline into drowsiness
My emotions hum your name.
Even in my sleep,
I am still a slave
For your name rules my dream
....STRANJA.....
I was born in a land far from the queen
Growing up there was a lovely scene
Where the families had traces of the Colonies
Of the British valour and symphony
Where grandma spoilt us with tasty ball curry
And grandpa boasted about troupes that scurry
Where we were taught to be proud of our roots
And boxing was the best way to settle disputes
A railway job was the simple way
But working on boats surely saved the day
My father worked hard to make ends meet
My mother taught us never to cheat
Christmas was a time to rejoice
Singing wasn't restricted to just some noise.
I lived in a time when my country was free
But the oldies still gushed about the English spree.
SINGING FROM MY BOOTS
I cannot sing with perfect pitch,
run up the scale, or down to switch.
I cannot sing in chords of E,
or vocalize in any key.
To hit a Sharp, will B a Flat,
I'm singing impaired, and That is That!
If there are four to harmonize,
then, tape my mouth for no surprise.
My throat can't copy what you sing,
my lips will tighten; my ears will ring.
The lyrics are known but, the tune is dead,
and the scales keep running in my head.
Yet when I go to hear a band,
I stand and sing; I think I'm grand.
The symphony will make me hum,
all parts of Mozart's requiem.
And when the Opera is my treat,
I make vibrato trill and sweet.
I hear the soloist croon with flutes,
he's singing loud and from his roots.
All I can hope when I open my mouth,
is north sounding notes, that never go south.
So if I stand with noteworthy troupes,
know that I'll sing from down in my boots.
-Edlynn Nau
August 18, 2015
Where I’ll hermit next is truly decided by fate
Life as a Mountain
Ash
Among troupes of sea
Gull callings to dinner
For crab meat
By the Sea What
I have found
In
life as a Mountain
Ash:
contemplation
Beauty,
still.
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