Monday, February 15, 2016
Poems o' the British
What a week it was for the Razor! First, both the Farmer and commenters knocked it out of the park with a fabulous discussion of the Presidential election. The whole thing is worth a read.
Great haiku, too, on the subject of the British. I had a hunch that Renee had something good in her, and I was right:
Fleeing icy
Fingers of rain,I enter
Clarinda's Tea Room.
The Bard of Scots regards
Me from the wall,salivates
At the sight of
Cucumber sandwich
Scone rife with Devonshire cream
Strawberry jam.
Clarinda"s grave
Is on the way home,she whom
Burns loved.I leave red rose.
Christine turns out to be an Anglophile, as well, and this was my favorite of hers:
Who was Hadrian...
and why does he have a wall
rambling east to west?
I think Jill Scoggins poem was inspired by actual events:
Unclaimed luggage at
Heathrow? ‘We just blow it up,’
said bobbies, laughing.
As was IPLawGuy's:
Wrong side of the road
I drove over Hyde Park and
Into Harrod's. Oops.
Great haiku, too, on the subject of the British. I had a hunch that Renee had something good in her, and I was right:
Fleeing icy
Fingers of rain,I enter
Clarinda's Tea Room.
The Bard of Scots regards
Me from the wall,salivates
At the sight of
Cucumber sandwich
Scone rife with Devonshire cream
Strawberry jam.
Clarinda"s grave
Is on the way home,she whom
Burns loved.I leave red rose.
Christine turns out to be an Anglophile, as well, and this was my favorite of hers:
Who was Hadrian...
and why does he have a wall
rambling east to west?
I think Jill Scoggins poem was inspired by actual events:
Unclaimed luggage at
Heathrow? ‘We just blow it up,’
said bobbies, laughing.
As was IPLawGuy's:
Wrong side of the road
I drove over Hyde Park and
Into Harrod's. Oops.
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