summerisle
The rain, it raineth every day
I could see the Goodies doing this as a Christmas record.Haha, /thread!
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Your Favourite Poem
- Thread starter summerisle
- Start date
- Status
Whistlin' Dixie
Player Valuation: £50m
Bah, humbug!
Who the flip are you?
Some thug?
Poetry is for nonces.
And Charlie Ronces
That's cockney rhyming slang
Which is like poetry.
Except it's not.
The great big southern ponces.
(c) Whistlin' Dixie 2015
Donald Twain
Vide cor meum
That's better!
Whistlin' Dixie
Player Valuation: £50m
Donald Twain
Vide cor meum
Now you're being daft!
Donald Twain
Vide cor meum
Splendid this.
Byron, 1788 - 1824
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes,
By the deep Sea, and music in its roar:
I love not Man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the Universe, and feel
What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal.
Byron, 1788 - 1824
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes,
By the deep Sea, and music in its roar:
I love not Man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the Universe, and feel
What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal.
BigBlueConk
Player Valuation: £70m
It was your heart that I wanted when I gave you a kiss,
A temptress before me I could not resist,
So why knock me back each time, you know in that way that you do?
It was your words that told me that I might have a chance,
And so the things that I say just try to enhance
The development of my feelings that I hold inside for you.
My only failing is hopeless devotion,
You cast me a spell, a kiss was the potion,
So where there is blame I look no further than you!
You said some nice things when we talked through the night,
And With my barriers down, I surrendered the fight.
Then we carried on with no remorse for our feelings.
Crossing some boundaries we thought out of reach
And right from my heart, to you I beseech
That you are honest and your words are never misleading.
My only failing is hopeless devotion,
You cast me a spell, a kiss was the potion,
So where there is blame I look no further than you!
You still say nice things each time that we meet,
And my heart still yearns, my attentions discreet
For no one can be allowed to see just what we mean to each other.
You remain a temptress I can not resist,
It was your heart I was stealing when I gave you a kiss,
So let it be taken for we may have a future together.
My only failing is hopeless devotion,
You cast me a spell, a kiss was the potion,
So where there is blame I look no further than you!
A temptress before me I could not resist,
So why knock me back each time, you know in that way that you do?
It was your words that told me that I might have a chance,
And so the things that I say just try to enhance
The development of my feelings that I hold inside for you.
My only failing is hopeless devotion,
You cast me a spell, a kiss was the potion,
So where there is blame I look no further than you!
You said some nice things when we talked through the night,
And With my barriers down, I surrendered the fight.
Then we carried on with no remorse for our feelings.
Crossing some boundaries we thought out of reach
And right from my heart, to you I beseech
That you are honest and your words are never misleading.
My only failing is hopeless devotion,
You cast me a spell, a kiss was the potion,
So where there is blame I look no further than you!
You still say nice things each time that we meet,
And my heart still yearns, my attentions discreet
For no one can be allowed to see just what we mean to each other.
You remain a temptress I can not resist,
It was your heart I was stealing when I gave you a kiss,
So let it be taken for we may have a future together.
My only failing is hopeless devotion,
You cast me a spell, a kiss was the potion,
So where there is blame I look no further than you!
Whistlin' Dixie
Player Valuation: £50m
Daft?
Daft as a brush
That's given the bum's rush?
This ought to get a 'like'
Or shaddap-a-yer-mush*.
*Worked for Joe Dolce.
Donald Twain
Vide cor meum
I confess to enjoying that .
summerisle
The rain, it raineth every day
Happy Is England
By John Keates
Happy is England! I could be content
To see no other verdure than its own;
To feel no other breezes than are blown
Through its tall woods with high romances blent:
Yet do I sometimes feel a languishment
For skies Italian, and an inward groan
To sit upon an Alp as on a throne,
And half forget what world or worldling meant.
Happy is England, sweet her artless daughters;
Enough their simple loveliness for me,
Enough their whitest arms in silence clinging:
Yet do I often warmly burn to see
Beauties of deeper glance, and hear their singing,
And float with them about the summer waters.
By John Keates
Happy is England! I could be content
To see no other verdure than its own;
To feel no other breezes than are blown
Through its tall woods with high romances blent:
Yet do I sometimes feel a languishment
For skies Italian, and an inward groan
To sit upon an Alp as on a throne,
And half forget what world or worldling meant.
Happy is England, sweet her artless daughters;
Enough their simple loveliness for me,
Enough their whitest arms in silence clinging:
Yet do I often warmly burn to see
Beauties of deeper glance, and hear their singing,
And float with them about the summer waters.
JAYTALITY
Player Valuation: £30m
Donald Twain
Vide cor meum
Will try to post a poem each day up till Christmas eve .
In drear nighted December
John Keats, 1795 - 1821
In drear nighted December,
Too happy, happy tree,
Thy branches ne’er remember
Their green felicity—
The north cannot undo them
With a sleety whistle through them
Nor frozen thawings glue them
From budding at the prime.
In drear-nighted December,
Too happy, happy brook,
Thy bubblings ne’er remember
Apollo’s summer look;
But with a sweet forgetting,
They stay their crystal fretting,
Never, never petting
About the frozen time.
Ah! would ‘twere so with many
A gentle girl and boy—
But were there ever any
Writh’d not of passed joy?
The feel of not to feel it,
When there is none to heal it
Nor numbed sense to steel it,
Was never said in rhyme.
In drear nighted December
John Keats, 1795 - 1821
In drear nighted December,
Too happy, happy tree,
Thy branches ne’er remember
Their green felicity—
The north cannot undo them
With a sleety whistle through them
Nor frozen thawings glue them
From budding at the prime.
In drear-nighted December,
Too happy, happy brook,
Thy bubblings ne’er remember
Apollo’s summer look;
But with a sweet forgetting,
They stay their crystal fretting,
Never, never petting
About the frozen time.
Ah! would ‘twere so with many
A gentle girl and boy—
But were there ever any
Writh’d not of passed joy?
The feel of not to feel it,
When there is none to heal it
Nor numbed sense to steel it,
Was never said in rhyme.
Norwegian Cow
Player Valuation: £35m
I think this might be my favorite porn: eroticax fantasy girl
Donald Twain
Vide cor meum
Take your smut elsewhere !
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