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Post by Blackbird on Dec 1, 2005 7:12:50 GMT -1
lol! I note that names have been omitted to protect the guilty ;D
Rome:
I heard there was a series About the Roman folk, And the guy that played the leading role Was a handsome looking bloke
But every Wednesday evening My other half sits down, And starts to help the people Of a zombie ridden town.
With rifle, blade and shotgun, He stalks across the land, Putting paid to zombie fun, Controller in his hand
And so - alas - I've missed it all The murders and the gore, The executions, politics, The battlefields and more...
So I must wait 'til next time round To see the Roman story But either way, I'm watching lots of Blood and guts and glory.
;D
The next topic is... mead!
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Post by jez on Dec 3, 2005 14:15:28 GMT -1
The back-spat golden treasure Of Odin's desperate flight Splashed me and you and all of us That's why this verse is trite...
Well, that's /my/ excuse...
Jez
The next topic is Themed Pubs...
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Post by Blackbird on Jan 25, 2006 6:40:19 GMT -1
On visiting a pub that seemed Decked out in a peasant theme I was told to sling me hook For wearing a too scruffy look (This has nearly happened to me...) The next subject is - daffodils. Wordsworth need not apply...
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Post by Blackbird on Jul 7, 2006 14:54:06 GMT -1
We seriously stalled on this! (were the daffodils too much of a challenge?!) I'll take up my own bait: I wandered lonely as a cloud On grey surbuban market day When all at once I saw a stall With hosts of golden daffodils Beside the bacon cobs and lunches Tightly knotted into bunches Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way They stood in strait jacketed ranks Next to the discounted bouquets Ten for a fiver or three for a pound In pretty paper with sellotape round. But oft when on the bus they lie Or vacant in the vases strewn They dream of starry yellow banks Of nodding golden multitudes And then their hearts with pleasure fill And dance upon the windowsill The next subject is.... a torc
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Post by Heron on Jul 9, 2006 12:03:54 GMT -1
This subject seemed to need an englyn... so here's three
TORC
Its gleam transcends time, dull gold in a museum Reflects the glint of cold Metal on skin and untold Stories that will not unfold
To casual tourists trudging through a gallery But those that get a few Moments alone to find its true Life shining on another view
Opening a past that grows to a present So this torc's bright shadow Is cast across time's flow Which dissolves - now - in its glow.
Next subject is: Nemeton
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Post by marcodubnos on Jul 9, 2006 17:41:56 GMT -1
Nemeton
Numinous bluebells Glow under wood; Head hardly hearing The beat of the blood...
Boles intone slowly A murmuring low, Stir among branches Transmuted below.
Rush becomes rumour, Call it a creaking, Or listen in silence To hear the oaks speaking.
And the next subject shall be...
... Chariot.
Marcodubnos.
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Post by ceinach on Jul 20, 2007 17:32:48 GMT -1
Chariots race for glory and fame For honor and love and family name A warrior races towards last breath A warrior races and embraces death Thundering horses and shrill cries A warrior races until he dies Chariots race on into war The life of the warrior is no more
The next subject is Meadowsweet...
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Post by littleraven on Jul 20, 2007 19:09:24 GMT -1
Fair bright bloom, A sprinkling upon stream side. Of fair ladies's made, Sharp eyed and cruel mouthed she is, A sweet yellow flower.
The next subject is ..... Death.
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Post by woodsmoke on Jul 21, 2007 10:53:07 GMT -1
A thief stealing in on sly feet A warrior roar at the sky A softly smiling release A keening, howling ‘why’?
A decision the hardest to make A cry of outrage that never gets heard A promised soul for a lord god to take Or a dark silent wing of a bird
A journey towards blinding light A departure to distant grey shores A surrender without a good fight Which death will reveal itself yours?
Next...Music
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Post by ceinach on Jul 23, 2007 11:53:40 GMT -1
Drummers beat vibrant and freeing Music dances on the web of being Interconnected by the song The melody of life lived and life moved on Your haunting song carries on the breeze From northern pipes the story does wheeze
and next...... Barbarians
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Post by ceinach on Aug 2, 2007 10:17:09 GMT -1
Well as no one has taken the bait, I will have a go
Which are the Barbarians?
Bloodied face Widened eyes Glint on sword Battle cries In bloody pool Roman lays On foreign land A legion dies
Woded Face Victorious eyes Shine from Torcs Battle cries A battle won War against lies On home land A whole tribe dies
The next subject is The Waning Moon
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Post by jez on Aug 12, 2007 11:52:55 GMT -1
Winter Moons
The longest nights are here - sit down, oh Sun! Stretch out your white-noon arms in blue-gold haze, Take off your red-gold crown and be at ease, Your longest rest between these shortest days.
Your brother Moon rides high, and proud he stands His face reflecting all your hidden light As you creep low, he leaps amongst the stars His path opposed to yours on these bright nights.
But soon, as his swift steeds tread lightly on He'll race you home, though doing so takes all, And as his strength is used he wanes and fades Until his path brings both to evening's hall.
He'll touch your hand and as you sink and sit His need for you makes all his striving worth. For three nights, while the skies hold only stars, He welcomes you each golden eve with love.
Between these two bright moons the year is born, As swift with Dawn and Evening Stars you ride And rush to fog-filled dusk from frost-cut dawn - The golden Sun, the Moon's most sacred bride.
It does not last - three nights each month are spent Before he is not there when you come home - And you must rise and light the world again While he lies still abed and all alone.
This winter, then, will pass - the light grows strong And once again the Spring will come and show That Ragnarok is not yet timed - not now... Though each and every year it could be so.
© Jezreell Midwinter Eve 2005
The next subject is Crossing Rivers
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Post by Midori on Aug 14, 2007 13:16:35 GMT -1
Crossing Rivers
Why cross a river? To get to the other side, Grass is always greener there, opportunities new, Boundaries of water, sometimes high and full sweeping lives and livelihoods to destuction. Sometimes low, trickling between dusty banks, narrow enough to step over. Children fishing for minnows in the pools, building dams. Bridges, from fallen trees, clapper bridges of massive slabs, To brick and stone spans and on to suspension bridges spanning large estuaries, And ferryboats, from small rowing boats to modern ones. There are many ways to cross a river, including our last journey across the Styx.
next subect Winds.
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