slidey
New member
a friend of mine recently passed away (god rest his soul) at the royal age of 81, he was a whacky character & used to programme his BBC1 computer with strings of words etc etc, & use it to write random poetry...................check this
Bird Finger Song - by Derek Mosedale
Earths jumping tax inspector pauses, scanning the febrile moon,
Rifles his mind old lore exhumes, and finds no answer there,
Above, a flashing turnip deftly wheels, parries aggressive macaroon,
Whilst furtive, gargoyle evilly awaits, out with on hallowed tupperware.
Now strong, celestial milkman, celebrates successful sock repair,
Forgetting in his joy, the omen of the mystic puddings blood,
The furloin buckets plaint, the bus conductors dare,
And while the frugal unicorn, survives the flood.
Antediluvian knowledge, dearly bought, cheaply lost,
And could for such a modest sum be hired by the hour,
Seemed to our limpid pensive vicar, Robin Hood,
Quite a good swap for a redundant cauliflower.
Fawning euphonium, and hypnotic prune, chorus with luminous power,
Almost it seemed a plangent call to wake the dead,
Would flush out dormant fauna, from one leafy bower,
And even get a nod from uncle Fred.
Nothing stirs,
Are ears all stuffed with wax, all limbs made of lead,
Where leaps flamboyant scrofulous picaroon, had nimble turnip crashed,
Where hawks beelzebub, his wares of dread,
And what of Zeus, and his attendants Herald and baboon.
what a loon. I miss him.................
Bird Finger Song - by Derek Mosedale
Earths jumping tax inspector pauses, scanning the febrile moon,
Rifles his mind old lore exhumes, and finds no answer there,
Above, a flashing turnip deftly wheels, parries aggressive macaroon,
Whilst furtive, gargoyle evilly awaits, out with on hallowed tupperware.
Now strong, celestial milkman, celebrates successful sock repair,
Forgetting in his joy, the omen of the mystic puddings blood,
The furloin buckets plaint, the bus conductors dare,
And while the frugal unicorn, survives the flood.
Antediluvian knowledge, dearly bought, cheaply lost,
And could for such a modest sum be hired by the hour,
Seemed to our limpid pensive vicar, Robin Hood,
Quite a good swap for a redundant cauliflower.
Fawning euphonium, and hypnotic prune, chorus with luminous power,
Almost it seemed a plangent call to wake the dead,
Would flush out dormant fauna, from one leafy bower,
And even get a nod from uncle Fred.
Nothing stirs,
Are ears all stuffed with wax, all limbs made of lead,
Where leaps flamboyant scrofulous picaroon, had nimble turnip crashed,
Where hawks beelzebub, his wares of dread,
And what of Zeus, and his attendants Herald and baboon.
what a loon. I miss him.................
