Wednesday, September 19, 2007

XXXI - Oh where, oh where...

Oh where, oh where... Said the bird “Pray Sir, to where have you flown? Away when I left and yet to come home. Are you musing on stuff, transcendental Or fighting for causes, environmental? Perhaps you’re bosun of some old barque Sailing the Cape for a bit of a lark? Perhaps you have been sold by gypsies afar Or finally succumbed to the Pinot Noir? Are you off in search of some treasure Or serving time at Her Majesty’s pleasure? It’s probably dull, whatever occurred But I’d still like to know”, insisted the bird. --- © J Cosmo Newbery ---
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32 comments:

  1. i love this!

    i think serving at her majestys pleasure.
    but looks like you can go wherever you like...thanks for taking me along.

    green. i like. fresh like the poem.

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  2. Lovely pic and lovely verse, jcn. I'm sure the bird is glad to see you back, as am I.

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  3. you are mighty green here today J Cosmo! Are you missing someone? Green with envy? (perhaps over the thought that they have succumbed to the Pinot Noir! *wink)

    Have a good weekend!

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  4. Cosmo, I haven't been over in a while and have to say I enjoyed reading through many of your work, you truly are the master of words.

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  5. Nag, nag, nag ....

    Is the glorious creature male?

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  6. ROOM: if (IF) I understand your question, the glorious bird is a female. The post is a response to a comment to the last post. The one without bugles, of course.

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  7. Bugles?

    Shmoogles.

    Where were you, anyway?

    Nag, nag, nag .....

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  8. Good heavens woman! It's enough to drive me to drink...(squeak, squeak, pop, glug, glug...)

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  9. Enough of the prevaricating Mr. J. Cosmo Newberry.

    WHERE WERE YOU?

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  10. I grant you, it is a fair question.

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  11. Serving time at Her Majesty's pleasure? Are you telling us taht you enjoy your Pinot Noir shaken, not stirred?

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  12. Moi? I'm not telling you anything!

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  13. Thats for sure.

    And, HOW short are your ears?

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  14. Van Gogh was short one ear, is that what you mean?

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  15. how clever - for we still don't know, now do we?

    a delightful verse - makes me chirp and sing

    and

    flap/flap/swoosh and soar!

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  16. A Pint of Bitter?

    A bit like putting a saucer of milk out for Rudolf.

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  17. Better than a slap on the belly with a wet fish.

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  18. Well, I don't know. I've heard about some of these party games. A lot would depend on dress and demeanor of the slapper.

    And the warmth of the fish.

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  19. Beware the feesha bearing geisha.

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  20. have you been out at belly-slapping parties then cosmo?

    hmmmm...

    whatever will they think of next.

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  21. I'm about ready to shoot the feathered, green creature.

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  22. I didn't do it, your honour.

    I swear on my dead grandmothers life.

    I also have an alibi.

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  23. I am being mostly confused. Why it it that the bird is being so deadly presented? And where is it that you are to be being found Sir? Are you perhaps leading us up the path that can be found in the garden?

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  24. oh dear! threats to shoot the bird! and now this!

    SQUAWK! SQUAWK!

    SCREEEEEECH!

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  25. Well, I WAS going to rave about yer new post, but, now my simple mind's floating in seas long from a familiar shore.

    I thought it simply a reincarnation, but, no?
    Jealousy ?
    BELLY slapping ?

    Ah...
    so much comfort wrapped in my dark wrap of ignorance.

    And, I liked the poem even if I don't get it.

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  26. Mr. Newberry .. It is time to bury the bird.

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  27. When is the Resurrection?

    Time to get up off your buns, gird your loins and sally forth ...

    Or fifth, if you like.

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  28. Oh come on jcn ... don't be so stingy ....

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