Monday, 21 March 2011

Witches Galore

On attempting to fly on my broomstick tonight
 Though I tried  and I tried,I just couldn't  take flight

 And tonight of all nights my old  broom   playing up
 When I'm a contender for the witches gold   cup

  A prestige's award yes I've been nominated
  so please understand why I'm feeling frustrated

 After many a year wishing and praying
 Finally tonight I could have been saying

 Who I'd like to thank...then I'd start to cry
 This dream wont come true if old broomy wont fly

 Now I remember,my stupid old cat
 today peed on my broomstick and all over my hat

I'll cast her a spell my old broom I will dry
and as quick as a flash We'll be ready to fly

Saturday, 19 March 2011

Queen of nine days

The tragic story of Lady Jane Grey ...who was used as a puppet in the year15.53.She did not want to be Queen and reined for only nine days,until Queen Mary or bloody Mary  as she was known was declared rightful heir to the thrown....and seventeen year old Jane and her young husband Guildford 's fate was sealed.Youn Lady Jane politely asked her executioner if he could take her head off before she laid it down....he answered "No madame" and cut off her head.........

Queen of nine days....

Pick petals from this pretty flower
await my death this final hour

I watched them take to tower hill
my Guildford as my heart stood still

in bluest skies,the ravens soared
as London's masses cheered and roared

with Axe they severed my loves life
I sit alone, his truest wife

and all for sake of crown and heir
my neck,that once you called so fair

will fall and die at tower green
nine days thee hosted me as Queen

oh Guilford ,keeper of my heart
no longer shall we be apart

at last the final petal falls
my name I hear all England call

impatiently I long for death
your name I shout with final breath

the sweetest day 19th July
tonight again with thee I'll lie

at rest ,so young aged seventeen
the Queen is dead..... long live the Queen


Natures grand display

He walked his field of ripened corn,
that brightest warmest summer morn.

More humbled than a man had been
enchanted by this wondrous scene

of harvest days proud crops ashow
his land a rich and golden glow.

His fertile pastures deep and wide
outstretched his land with sense of pride

and gazed as far as man could see
what mother earth bestowed to he

when dawn had broke,on fields of corn
a son,for him this morning born

so pondered to himself a while
and on his face there crept a smile

for glorious natures grand display
this brightest warmest summer's day

Last Modified: June 21, 2010 at 06:55 pm

Friday, 18 March 2011

I met the spring

 I met the spring this morning while going for a walk. I sensed that she was busy and had no time to talk.

Within her arms a bundle of plants and shoots and seeds.
Adorned her neck with snowdrops she wore like flower beads.

Her dress was sewn from crocuses , a fragrant scented gown.
And on her head wore bluebells , she'd placed there like a crown

And as I made to pass her, into her arms was drawn
and from her warm and light embrace know winter's almost gone