Re: Rather Polite of Him, Wouldn't You Say?

Pete Dashwood wrote:
Here's a poem I wrote at the time (many years ago now)...

After the Fall



you took it all

except my heart

(why would you take a broken plaything?)



I found bits of it

buried amongst sand dunes at Omanu

tumbling in eternal crashing surf on Ocean Beach

spread across dark green

Ohauiti Welcome Bay

hills tumbling down forever

from turquoise sky

to tranquil harbour

reflective at high tide.



land is solid persistent

never failing, never faithless

truth and light

comfort me now

I am calm



Perhaps, this place can do what all the King's Horses

And all the King's Men

Could not.


After the first two lines, the rhyming kinda went downhill.

Try:

There was a woman from Carolina,
Who placed fiddle strings 'cross her vagina,
With certain-sized cocks,
What was sex became Bach's
Tocatta and Fugue in D Mina.




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