I've got things to do,
There's a pile of washing at home
I've booked time to meet with my friend
To discuss the overture to William Tell
It'll be good to see him
It's good to see anybody
We plan to go for a run down by the lake
It's talked about all week
We discover that it is a pond
And disappointment sets in
The adrenaline just caught the bus
Freed from the misery of wakening
Give me Isabella Colbran
Her extravagance, high-society lifestyle and gambling habit
Was there really a William Tell?
Well...
maybe yes, and maybe no,
but I just want you to know,
because,
if there was,
I'd take away his bow.
Because of the holiday the Lourve was closed.
Mary was impressed with the French pastry
that tasted just as good as it looked.
Horrible coffee, good chocolate & delicious thick soups.
Beautiful clothes with prohibitive prices.
We boarded the Albert Express for Switzerland
with a bottle of wine and a big bag of pastries.
Take me back to Paris, I can’t stand the fresh air and healthy people of Switzerland
Arrived in Lucerne with time to enjoy the fountains in all the squares —
they were boarded up a couple days later.
Delicious cheese fondue, murals painted on the old houses,
a quaint town for William Tell, with his bow and barefooted boy.
A Train from The Alps to Venice.
Train to Florence, Hotel Majestic,
whole city is an art Gallery.
Michelangelo square, mosaic jewelry, leather goods.
Flores Hotel in Rome, Vatican, Parthenon.
St. Paul without the walls, St. Peters in chains,
Nightclub tour of the city, Old Appian way,
Capuchin Church with all the bones...
I rested my eyes and I heard a bell ringing
I wondered what this afternoon might be bringing
I gathered my wits and peered out through the blind
Frankly, intrigued to know what I might find
There’s children stood there and they look so unruly
I sense that they’ve all got it in for yours truly
I think to myself with a shortage of mirth
The lot of them should have been throttled at birth
That bell is still ringing, it’s donging and dinging
I’ve got a sore head and my eardrums are stinging
And would you believe that those kids are now squealing
You’re likely to find me soon… clung to the ceiling
Will somebody please silence that flaming bell
I so want a crossbow like William Tell
I feel myself shaken and then shaken faster
Then… “Lunch time is over; please wake up, Headmaster.”
"Some of us have secrets – William Tell."
Some of us have secrets.
Well, we all have secrets, William Tell.
We sweep them under the carpet,
or trade, for better things.
Some things we exchange,
they see us captured and seized,
canaries singing in gilded cages,
well, some not so gilded;
some are chirping up
an opera, orchestra vulgate,
the percussion,
rattled and deceased.
We pretend to live in golden ages
the buried deep inside us - we,
claw a way out of the hidden
musty mausoleums
haunting
all
the poetique
people.
The external jest,
they love it all,
they smother us
in their velvet words,
or drown us in
a baptismal tide
of touch and tell, bugs,
truth or dare,
a looney tunes overture.
Some of us have secrets.
Well, we all have secrets.
We sweep them under the carpet, or trade,
for better things.
The Apple plucked from the tree
like a story, before bitten,
placed on a head
stood against a wall
William Tell
for better things
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Not your usual
Not uncommon
The once upon a time
That line might be fine
Love of the heart at times being kind
A glass of wine being a story added divine
Line by line
Word by word
The distance between what happened
Extending to
Thinking through and through
Perhaps a notion having a thought
A pass dream remembered
Caught in a nightmare trap
Storms that became violent
One pause of silent
A past wonder
Sunshine suddenly appeared yonder
Emotions opened up
Joy prospered
Expiration had no tire
I know, but questioned
Opinionated but was a suggestion
Inspiration rang like a Philadelphia Liberty Bell
That moment, I felt like William Tell
I can do this
Encouragement spoke
Proceed told
You are mighty and bold
Heaven’s hand your threshold
The story within a moment’s notice of time
The life being m
Baby Dean
By Franklin Price
02/18/2022
Last night around ten-thirty
I heard my silent cell phone play
I was wakened from my slumber
It was about to make my day
The call was New Mom Bella
And the picture on the screen
Put a smile upon this Pop Pop's Face
There was Great Grand baby Dean
His tiny face, made my heart race.
His head was warmly capped
His cheeks were new born rosy
Bella held him as he napped
What a joy it was to see him
Barb, I know you saw him too
I felt you looking o'er my shoulder
That's what I knew that you would do
They were home and in the great room
Such a place of cherished care
Could see your presence was there with them
Could see your love was in the air
The phone was panned around the room
Daddy Dalton smiling proud
Grandma and grandpa Perry
Were also beaming in the crowd
There on display a family
Three generations on the scene
That had gathered there to welcome,
The youngest, new born, baby Dean
I was glad to be included
Through the wonders of the cell
To see results of Cupid's arrow
Not the one of William Tell
This year makes 10 years since I've been an ingredient in this soup,
Due to lifes' journey, been in and out like a belt through pants loop,
Over the years I've read some great poetry, made some great friends,
If you're just joining this group, we welcome you family, you'll
soon comprehend,
Not seeing poetry from some of my old friends anymore, but hope
you're all well,
I'm still around y'all, still firing words through readers mind, like the
great William Tell...
In the legend of one,William Tell
an archer& Swiss-born rebel
Such accuracy & skilled know-how
but,to an Austrian hat would not bow.
So had to skewer an apple on his son's head
this obedient lad trembled &said
keep your eye's open father,please
& dear Papa,do not do not, sneeze
King Harold takes shelter behind upturned barrows
The Normans approach and the gap quickly narrows
His young wife had said
Keep down your sweet head
Then begged as he left, keep an eye out for arrows
*
Sir, do you sell nuts in the shell
My mum says eat healthy and well
I know that the wealthy
Say Apples are healthy...
Not when your dad’s William Tell
*
Oops, I have run out of arrows
The old dingo, barking, just goes
An Australian man
Offers his boomerang
But I couldn't fire one of those
half in slumber when I walk down,
early morning in my night gown,
with toasted bread she waits for me,
greets me with favourite coffee!
Jasmine smell may bring in the bees,
and rats may love the smell of cheese,
to entice working men like me,
try the smell of roasted coffee!
why spend a fortune on perfumes,
when hot water can supply fumes,
brewed hot in home coffee machines,
freshly made from ground roasted beans!
clever girl knows way to my heart,
buys love potion from coffee mart!
once she primes me with that smell,
she shoots my heart like William Tell!
So here I share my true weakness,
you know what smell knocks my senses,
not sandy beech, not big blue sea,
but that smell of goddamn coffee!
1st Placement
8 syllables each line
Written 25/03/2021
My favourite smell(s) Poetry competition
Chantelle Anne Cooke
10% true story based on my Nespresso Machine
90% fiction.
I wish it was true! in real life- I make the coffee for her too!!
A flash of light,
a cloud of dust,
a joyous moment
beneath the rust
A hearty vision
with silver streaks,
unmasking boyhood
—in memories deep
(Garrett Hill Pennsylvania: March, 2021)
Hapsburg bailiff Gessler’s hollow kow-tow;
was a farce William Tell would disavow.
A hat on a pole! I'll never bow.
Such disregard tagged him, non-compliant
in a poem told by William Bryant -
William Tell was the one most defiant.
His snub of the snob gave reason to dread
Tell must shoot an apple from his son’s head.
"Now off to prison!" Boss Gessler then said.
Mountain man in prison swallowed his doubt
dreaming of freedom's well-followed route.
Swiss subjection he would soon hollow out.
January 15, 2021
inspired by William Cullen Bryant's poem, William Tell,
Legendary hero of Swiss independence.
Classic T V
William Tell, Robin Hood,
Ena Sharples in the snug,
Gibbs SR whiter teeth,
Billy Bunter getting grief,
Hawkeye, Ivanhoe,
Twelve-inch screen full of snow.
Range rider, Wagon Train,
Dragnet, the Army game,
Francis Drake pirate ships,
Seventy-seven sunset strip,
Palladium on Sunday night,
Classic shows in black and white.
Take your pick, double your money,
Arthur Haynes so very funny,
Armchair Theatre, play of the week,
Candid Camera on the street,
I Love Lucy, laugh a lot,
Say goodnight with a little white spot.
I walked the path of
William Tell
An apple by my
side
And waited for an archer
strong
To match me stride
for stride
I placed the orb
upon my head
And stood against
a tree
And gave my faith
unto the wind
Fates arrow sent
to free
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)
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