XLIII - I remember when.

.

Last week's writing challenge from Mama's Losin' It
included an option to write something beginning with "I remember when".
My contribution should be sung to the tune of
"Time goes by" from the film, Casablanca.

◊◊◊

I remember when

I remember when
Letters were writ by pen,
The mail came twice a day;
The fundamental things decay,
As time goes by.

The milk came to your door,
There was lino on your floor,
Mum's made apple pie,
Who cared what the future brings,
As time goes by.

Bad guys wore black hats,
Little girls in pink.
Ovens full of biscuits,
Dishes in the sink.
Spam was canned meat,
And coke was just a drink.
That no one can deny.

But it’s still the same lament,
The rush to change, hell-bent,
No-one stops to wonder why.
Change will always puzzle parents,
As time goes by.

Oh yes, change will always puzzle parents,
As time goes by.

---
© J Cosmo Newbery

---
Apologies to Herman Hupfeld.

XLII - Love is Red

.

This week's writing challenge from Mama's Losin' It
is to write a poem about a favourite colour.
My contribution should be sung to the tune of Love is Blue.

Love is red
(making a meal of Love is Blue)

Red, red, my wine is red
Red is the wine that goes to my head
Pink, pink, my life is pink
Warm is my heart with something to drink

Red, red, my steaks are red
Frying for two, along with some bread
Green, green, my salad is dressed
I devoured you and now I can rest

When we sat, how the night sped away
Talking long into the following day

Noir, noir, the Pinot’s I’ve had
Sipping on them, life’s not too bad.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery

---
Apologies to Pierre Cour.

XLI - Memories past.

.

Having read Dianne's post and Lee's follow on post,
I was driven to write this.


Memories past

Old envelopes, filled
With letters, notes and billet doux;
Moments of emotion,
Expressions of love or thanks or just adieu.

Love gone unrequited
And love most freely shown;
Pleadings from the heart
And notes of from hearts of stone.

Stories from the country,
Postcards from the beach,
Letters from the front,
And Mum’s attempts to teach.

Letters writ with tears
And read with tears once more;
Wrapped with love and ribbon
And kept in a bottom drawer.

Time entrapped eternal
But released every now and then
To warm a heart once more
In the dreamy land of ‘when’.

When I was young…
When life moved at a different pace…
When people took more time…
And valued style and grace.

Now, when communication is quick
But seldom very deep
Where txt jst sez "luv ya babe"
What memories will our children keep?

---

© J Cosmo Newbery

---

XL - Six of the best

Well now, Sophia has given me a creative blogger award.
As grateful as I am, it is tricky trying to fit it into my format but here goes.
The easy bit first: a list of my six loves. Or, more correctly, six of my loves.
Keeping to the verse format, of course!

Six of the Best

Of my six loves, the winner by far
Is a well aged bottle of Pinot Noir.

The next love is women, a passion risky;
Mrs Newbery take note, it's friendly not frisky.

On a cold winter's night, when the days are short
Life is much better with a stilton and port.

And while I sit and nibble a piece of my cheese
Some chamber music is certain to please.

With all this food, you'd think me toffey,
But I can't not sing the praises of coffee.

And how else could I end a list so terse
Without mentioning my writing what passes for verse?

---

© J Cosmo Newbery

---

XXXIX - Love Sonnet to an Enemy

.

This week's writing challenge from Mama's Losin' It.

A Love Sonnet to an Enemy

O my foe, we have had our ups and downs,
Our battles, imaginary and real;
We’ve fought at length with tears and grief and frowns
With wounds so deep they’d surely never heal.

But to you I owe a sizable debt,
A most shocking thing to say, I know.
You’ve made me what I am today, and yet
I’m sure that you didn’t intend it so.

As quenching toughens metal, glowing red;
As stones give blades an edge to cut more true;
Your friction toughed me for life ahead
And drove me on to show what I could do.

O dear and lovely foe, hear me when I say:
You’ve done your best, now kindly go away.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery

---

XXXVIII - The Squirrel

.

Hey, I won a prize! Stewart Pidasso runs a caption contest
and my caption for that above photo won.
Well, not quite the above photo, I added the Grrrrr! myself for this post; call it poetic license.
My winning caption was "This aint so bad. You should see the other guy."
This lead to the following limerick:

There was a young squirrel called Nutsy,
Who mixed it with squirrels less gutsy,
When put on the spot
He gave more than he got,
As a homicide, it was open and shutsy.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery

---

XXXVII - He's got a little list.

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Mama's Losin' It had a writing assignment last week. I chose to do the poetry option (of course, that's the only option I choose) but one of her other options was 'Ten Pet Peeves'. Since then I haven't managed to get the song "As some day it may happen" from the Mikado from my head. So I modified the song a little. There may be more that ten peeves.

For those of your not familiar with The Mikado,
KoKo, who sings this song, needs to find someone to execute.

He's Got A Little List

As some day it may happen that a victim must be found,
I've got a little list — I've got a little list
Of society offenders who might well be underground,
And who never would be missed — who never would be missed!
There’s people when you’re worried who say to ‘just relax’
All the bloggers who ambush you with their wretched music tracks
All gossipers and slanderers; sordid, vile and grubby
All women who insist on calling husbands ‘hubby’
And all the gentle souls who think that ghosts exist
They'd none of 'em be missed — they'd none of 'em be missed!

CHORUS

He's got 'em on the list — he's got 'em on the list;
And they'll none of 'em be missed — they'll none of 'em be missed.


There’s people with religion, who think they know the truth
And the radical feminist — I've got her on the list!
And the people who are rude and needlessly uncouth,
They never would be missed — they never would be missed!
Then the idiot who claims, in a manner unoriginal
Though even only a sixty-fourth, he’s really Aboriginal
And men who think they’re not a man unless they have a gun
And people who always see the gloom and never see the sun
And that singular anomaly, the televangelist —
I don't think he'd be missed — I'm sure he'd not he missed!

CHORUS

He's got him on the list — he's got him on the list;
And I don't think he'll be missed — I'm sure he'll not be missed!


And that most annoying nuisance, who just now is rather rife,
The rabid Monarchist — I've got him on the list!
And men who spend their idle hours bitching ‘bout their wife —
They'd none of 'em be missed — they'd none of 'em be missed.
And the Opposition politician, with never a good word
But with righteous indignation after everything’s occurred
And the tradesmen that you waited for but never ever showed
And the people who drive four wheel drives but never leave the road
But it really doesn't matter whom you put upon the list,
For they'd none of 'em be missed — they'd none of 'em be missed!

CHORUS

You may put 'em on the list — you may put 'em on the list;
And they'll none of 'em be missed — they'll none of 'em be missed!

[Exeunt CHORUS]

---

© J Cosmo Newbery

---

Apologies to W.S. Gilbert.

XXXVI- Satan's Bollocks

.

Satan's Bollocks

By and large I love my greens,
My parents taught me right
Broccoli, spinach, peas and beans
I’ll gladly eat all night.

But the green that gives me much disgust
Is the dreaded Brussel Sprout;
By all means, cook them if you must,
Then... chuck the buggers out.

My childhood dinners ended late
I was ordered: eat the lot
So I slipped them slyly off my plate
And stuffed them down my socks.

Now sprout fans, please retreat
I don’t wish to be debatin’;
You’ll never convince me to eat
Those sulphurous balls of Satan.

---
© J Cosmo Newbery

---

XXXV - A winter's morning in June.

I have been quiet for some time with poetry far down my to-do list. 

I was prompted into action by a post on Diane's blog 

which lead me to Mama's Losin It 

where there was a challenge to write a 16 line poem 

about something life changing from my childhood.

◊◊◊

A winter’s morning in June.

Her hair was blonde, her eyes were blue,

Her legs reached past her middle;

I adored her in the way that puppies do:

All enthusiasm and warm piddle.

Her lips were pink, her skin was white,

Complexion cream and peaches;

I’d curl up in my bed at night

Dreaming of her nether reaches.

I was a mess of hormones, dreams,

young lust and cheap cologne.

But the bubble burst, or so it seems,

When she spoke to me alone.

She was as thick as a housing brick

With an IQ of a winter’s morning;

“Piss off’ was all she really said to me,

I was grateful for the warning.

---

© J Cosmo Newbery

---

XXXIV - Her Majesty's Pleasure.

XXXIII - A different quest.

. A different quest [The Knight] Come dear fellow, let’s walk in the park I need to air a subject most dark: Just between me and you Though I enjoy a rhyme or two It no longer seems to provide a spark. [The Attendant] Oh master, pray, please do nothing rash There will be tears that flow and teeth that gnash; [The Knight] Sancho, my friend, I am telling you That a man must do what a man must do. It’s time to park This poetry lark And bravely tilt at a wind mill or two. --- © J Cosmo Newbery ---

XXXII - Remembering the paperboy.

x

Remembering the paperboy.

The paper, however, is a daily lump
That hits the driveway with a ‘wump’.
I hear it land with a bounce or two
And, from beneath my blankets, say ‘thank you’.

---
© J Cosmo Newbery
---

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 ---

Intermission

Reeling off some eight answers

Boneman as asked me to give the answers to eight random questions.
A meme thing to do.

The answers are:

96

188

Greater than 130

A dog

About 12

Pinot Noir

Never

Left leg first

...

XXX - Blissful ignorance.

Painting: Steven Kenny I have been interviewed by Lillie. Lillie's First Question: Many of us are aware of your fierce contest last summer for the affections of a fair maiden.
Unfortunately, you were publicly beaten by a dog, and apparently consoled yourself with a trip to Italy with yet another woman.

My readers are wondering how Mrs. Newbery responded to these events and how you have arranged your marriage to allow for such events?
◊◊◊ Ignorance is bliss. Mrs N. knows not the women who divert me She would, if she knew, desert me. It is, forsooth, A simple truth What she doesn’t know wont hurt me. ◊◊◊ Directions for the Interview Meme: 1. Leave me a comment saying "Interview Me." 2. I will respond by asking you 5 questions. (I get to pick the questions.) 3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions. 4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post. 5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them 5 questions. ...

XXIX - My cup runneth over.

I have been interviewed by Lillie. I will answer the questions in reverse order so that they appear in the correct order. Lillie's Second Question: You seem a man of leisure, with abundant time for wine, women, poetry and acerbic comments. How are you able to financially support such an exotic lifestyle?

◊◊◊ I'm a kept man. To the tune of 'Jimmy Crack Corn'

When I was young I set my eyes On a master who was on the rise And hitched my wagon to his star Now I’m never short of Pinot Noir. Chorus I’m a kept man, and I don’t care. I’m a kept man, and I don’t care. I’m a kept man, and I don’t care. I’ve never paid my way. I would go with my master abroad; While he was seeking his reward I would write poetry in the bar With a fine glass of Pinot Noir Chorus Very little my master forbids I even fathered all his kids For that there was no feather or tar He blamed it on the Pinot Noir Chorus My master is so kind and giving This is the best way of making a living, It’s wondrous that its lasted this far I toast the heavens with my Pinot Noir. --- © J Cosmo Newbery ---

XXVIII - Regrets

I have been interviewed by Lillie. I will answer the questions in reverse order so that they appear in the correct order. Lillie's Third Question: What has been your greatest regret? ◊◊◊ Mr Newbery regrets.

Do I have regrets? You bet I do! You can’t live life without a few: They trail behind like gulls with a trawler.

And some, yes, have made me weep and robbed me of my precious sleep As an incessantly nagging midnight caller. Some hang so heavy and others less stern But the past has gone and cannot return You can but face the future smarter, hopeful, taller. Regrets are the flotsam of a life well played, Accept that fact and be not dismayed; My revealing mine wont make them smaller. --- © J Cosmo Newbery ---

XXVII - A dear friend.

I have been interviewed by Lillie. I will answer the questions in reverse order so that they appear in the correct order. Lillie's Fourth Question: What qualities do you look for in a friend? ◊◊◊ A Dear Friend A friend is warm, a friend is caring A friend is loving and there for sharing Full bodied, ripe and nicely rounded A friend give pleasure, quite unbounded. A friend will listen, a friend will care, A friend supports you, with heart laid bare. Loyal, encouraging, lending a hand, A friend is precious, they understand. A friend is soft, a friend is giving A friend makes life, and love, worth living. A friend will come from near or far, But in their absence, try Pinot Noir. --- © J Cosmo Newbery ---

XXVI - Immortal or just well preserved.

The original J Cosmo Newbery
Lillie's Fifth Question:
What would you most like to be remembered for?

◊◊◊

Thirsting for fame.

Unlike my precursor, J Cosmo the first
So proud he could bust, or possibly burst
I wish it known, both near and far,
That I really loved my Pinot Noir
And that no-one said "He died of thirst".

---
© J Cosmo Newbery
---

XXV - A sonnet to a favourite word.

I have been interviewed by Lillie. I will answer the questions in reverse order so that they appear in the correct order. Bonus question: What is your favorite word? ◊◊◊

When I was asked for my favourite word I chose, with no trace of hesitation What I think is surely the most absurd Example in all communication. My word, you see, is quaintly double edged And most slyly deceptive from the start; Its values are perverse and coyly hedged. It firstly means divide or split apart. Straight forward enough, separate and lift. Visions come of satin, silk and leather. But calm your busom and don’t be so swift: Its second meaning is to stick together. To cut or to join, it’s hard to believe But my favourite word, of course, is ‘cleave’. --- © J Cosmo Newbery ---

XXIV - The Unicorn.

The Unicorn

In a parallel world, where left is right
And the west displays the dawn,
Amongst the mist and morning light,
You’ll find the unicorn.

A lovely thing, a glorious sight,
It clearly rules that place.
It moves with ease between the trees,
And charms you with its grace.

As you watch her on the dewy fields
Beside the creeks, on grassy banks;
She meets your eye, then coyly yields;
A tremble stirs her flanks.

But in this place of reflective dreams
Where life is honey, cream and peach,
The unicorn is near, or so she seems,
Yet sadly out of reach.

---
© J Cosmo Newbery
---

XXIII - In Absentia I

In Absentia
A villanelle.

The place they once filled is now cold and bare;
What was immutable crumbles away;
It’s hard to believe they’re no longer there.

The glint in their eyes, the smell of their hair,
The feel of their skin, the things they would say;
The place they once filled is now cold and bare

Nothing could have been done to help prepare
For the sadness destined to fill you this day.
It’s hard to believe they’re no longer there.

In the harsh light of dawn you can but stare;
What burned so bright is now shades of grey.
The place they once filled is now cold and bare

No one promised that this life would be fair
Nor did they warn they would be taken away;
It’s hard to believe they’re no longer there.

Friends look awkward and are afraid to say
It always was destined to end this way.
The place they once filled is now cold and bare
It’s hard to believe they’re no longer there.

---
© J Cosmo Newbery
---

XXII - A Dream

A Dream
.In memory of Joan Heys.
.
I dreamt about a distant place,
All white, yet strangely warm;
Where all was elegance and grace:
There was presence but no form.

Into this quiet and peaceful scene
A man stepped into view;
He was both strong and cut quite clean.
A woman stood there, too.

He looked at her, and with a smile,
Remembered when they’d wed;
“I’m glad you’ve come. It’s been a while.”
“A friend sent me” she said.

Happy with the eons spanned
They embraced and gently kissed;
Then they turned, and hand in hand,
Slipped off into the mist.

---
© J Cosmo Newbery
---

Telegram!

(Click to enlarge)

-- Night --

(Click to enlarge)

XXI - The Puppeteer.

Now, ladies and gentlemen, for your amazement,
I present, for the first time on the Newbery stage, a terzanelle.

The Puppeteer

In the overall scheme of things
We are but puppets on a stage
When other people pull our strings.

Rather than asking we ‘act our age’
Remember, or better, don’t forget:
We are but puppets on a stage.

Keep it in mind, while on the set,
Such relations can pull both ways;
Remember, or better, don’t forget

That with which the puppeteer plays
Are fixed to him as well as you;
Such relations can pull both ways.

Strings that pull you, as if on cue,
(Very few things are as they seem)
Are fixed to him as well as you.

Self control is a wishful dream
In the overall scheme of things.
Very few things are as they seem
When other people pull our strings.
---
© J Cosmo Newbery
---

XX - Burning Brightly

Burning Brightly

We present a skin unto the world
That protects us from harsh exposure
But all the while beneath the layers
An inner fire is burning brightly
And throws long shadows of the players
Dancing around the warm enclosure
An inner pageant, tightly furled.
---
© J Cosmo Newbery
---

XIX - The Poetry Challenge

An Agony in Four Fits and a Poem.

I.
Where the players are introduced to the crowd.

There was a time when there was peace throughout the land
And life was milk and honey
When all things were considered, it was rather grand
And well done eggs were runny.

A fair young Maiden entered this idyll
And hearts went all aflutter
She grabbed their attention and had a fiddle
She melted them like butter.

Like hapless candles fluttering around a moth
The Gumshoe was first to break
He threw down a glove made of the finest cloth
Which the Knight was loathe to take.

But take it he did, their relationship terse;
They waited the Maiden’s decree.
Fidelity was the given task; plus a verse
About some harmless drudge named Lee.


II.
Where the players are jostling for position.

The Gumshoe fretted while the Knight sipped his wine
But others had entered the ring
The smart money moved onto the Rottie, K9
Fidelity already his thing.

But the stumbling block that was causing most grief
Was the mandatory topic, Lee.
“To be writing about him is beyond belief”
Said the Knight. The others had to agree.

Lillie and Lux came to play. “We want to know:
Can we take Lee when it’s over?
The Maiden can go to the cop or Cosmo,
She can even run off with Rover.”

So, dear reader, the lines are drawn, words have been said;
We are slowly progressing the scenes;
Fidelity remains to be hit on the head;
Does anyone know what it means?


III.
Where the Knight writes on fidelity.

The Knight looked down at his blank serviette
And wondered what to write
Help me Sancho! There must be some angle to get
On the others in this fight.

The Gumshoe, said Sancho, will view it felonious
That’s what policemen do.
Perhaps you should heed the words of Polonius
And “To thine self be true”?

Now, the dog of course, is an outside chance
While Percy’s chasing robbers;
But really what woman gives a second glance
To a hairy beau that slobbers?

It was Percy, for Mayden, who started this fight,
A copper for a gal;
Under the circumstances, it sounds right,
If I use a villian-elle.

◊◊◊

The Poem

Lassie.

Curled up beside him close at night,
She was contented as a lassie could be.
And the flame in her heart burned bright.

She adored him deeply, with all her might
In the place that she most wanted to be,
Curled up beside him close at night.

She was pure as the snow is crisp and white
‘Til the day she chanced upon Lee;
And the flame in her heart burned bright.

Her happiness soared to reach new heights
Never before had she felt so free.
Curled up beside him close at night.

She asked with an accent, passingly slight:
Did you say you would marry me?
And the flame in her heart burned bright.

The depth of her love was easy to see;
Some things we learn are meant to be;
Curled up beside him close at night.
And the flame in her heart burned bright.

◊◊◊


IV.
Where the circus leaves town.

Sancho, the poem is writ, our job complete,
We can but win or fail,
And having stayed long enough to compete
It is time to hit the trail.

You have been so loyal, I must thank you so,
You helped me stay the course
Good luck, my man, you are free to go
And, yes, you can have my horse.

There’s nothing so sad as a circus ground
When all the crowd’s dispersed;
The grass is trampled, the bunting’s come down,
But what’s become of those ‘versed’?

Percy is strutting the policeman’s domain
K9 is entering dog shows,
Poor Lee has slipped into obscurity again
Mayden is posing for photos.


[THE END]

XVIII - Modified Rapture

Modified Rapture

Fair Mayden wonders where I've been!
In recent times, behind the yoke,
Plough tines in my field of dreams;
My situation reminds me of a joke:

A sailing ship was plying icy waters,
But sprung a leak and sank, in a trice.
Swimming to an iceberg, at close quarters,
The sailors climbed on the mount of ice.

On this tomb, would their names be engraved?
Time passed by and they began to panic.
All at once they cried "Look! We're saved!"
"O joy of joys, here comes the Titanic!"
---
© J Cosmo Newbery
---

XVII - Lost in the woods.

[The scene] Some woods, a knight sits at the base of a tree, arms crossed on his knees, head resting on his arms. His faithful manservant, Sancho, stands looking at him, hands on hips.


[Sancho]
xxxx Master, you have sat alone for so long,
xxxx Shoulders slumped, head on your knees;
xxxx Pray tell me what is wrong,
xxxx Perhaps I can put your mind at ease.

[The Knight]
xxxx Sancho, thank you, your heart is pure gold,
xxxx If the truth be known, I have lost my way.
xxxx I’m a “fawning old man”, or so I’m told.
xxxx Is that how I’m to be viewed at the end of the day?

[Sancho]
xxxx But Master, that’s only one woman’s view;
xxxx Perhaps said lightly, as if for effect.

[The Knight]
xxxx I’m sad to advise, but there are two,
xxxx One is but nought but one I respect.

[Sancho]
xxxx O Master, please give such feelings the shove,
xxxx You must rise above them and continue the fight!
xxxx Take up the challenge! Pick up the glove!
xxxx Ride into battle for what is right!

[The Knight]
xxxx This quest could give me more pain than I want
xxxx I leave myself open to be smacked again.
xxxx But what is misery to a knight errant?
xxxx Sancho! Come quick! Bring me my pen!

[exeunt]
---
© J Cosmo Newbery
---

-- Sunset --

"Come, Sancho!"

"Does this mean I don't get the horse?"

...

XVI - The Dove, Reprise.

The Dove - Reprise

A kind of peace returned to me
Despite my soul being laid bare
The day I set the white dove free.

It felt as if it was meant to be
Released and free, far from my care
A kind of peace returned to me

I held my hands aloft to see
It taking joyously to the air
The day I set the white dove free.

It settled in an old oak tree
As I watched it resting up there
A kind of peace returned to me

It was as happy as could be
Children sang at the country fair
The day I set the white dove free.

Even though it was so hard to bear
I know I'd pleased a maiden fair.
A kind of peace returned to me
The day I set the white dove free.
---
© J Cosmo Newbery
---

XV - Persian Gambit Declined

Persian Gambit Declined

There was a reluctant white knight
Who was challenged to enter a fight.
"I have an aversion
To tackle the Persian
And have decided to call it a night."
---
© J Cosmo Newbery
---

XIV - The Quilt

The Quilt

Variety, we’re told, is what gives life pep;
It puts a smile on your face, bounce in your step.
It makes you keen to face each day,
With it comes spice, or so they say.

Our meals are varied, our clothing too;
Our music diverse, and the things we do
At work, at play, when hearing and seeing
Each give us a swatch for the quilt of being.

Variety is good, as the dreamcoat shows,
It’s bright and cheery and everyone knows
It’s variety that warms us like a mother;
Why can’t we accept it in each other?
---
© J Cosmo Newbery
---

XIII - The Challenge

[The scene] The young upstart, Percy Bysshe Silly, has issued a challenge to our hero, the Knight. He stands in a clearing with his faithful manservant, Sancho.

[Sancho]
xxxx"You must take up the glove, of course.
xxxxSuch challenges must be met.
xxxxI'll be there beside you, with my horse.
xxxxWell, it's pretend really; it's all that I could get."

[The Knight]
xxxx"Sancho, I really doubt it wise.
xxxxWhat does it show of me, a virile male,
xxxxTo lower myself to such enterprise,
xxxxAnd what if I was to fail?"

[Sancho]
xxxx"But Master, don't forget the prize!
xxxxThe lovely maiden: pure and sweet and chaste!
xxxxOf course, you may do otherwise
xxxxBut I beg of you: Accept! Post haste!"

[The Knight]
xxxx"But would a maid who sorts her beaux
xxxxBy way of pre-dawn thrust and parry
xxxxBe the sort of maid I'd want to know?
xxxxIn a biblical sense, maybe. But marry?"

[Sancho]
xxxx"O Master, do not worry so!
xxxxWith your skills, your opposite is quaking!
xxxxEnter! I beg of you; there's a week to go
xxxxAnd the prize is worth the taking!"

[The Knight]
xxxx"To protect the young maid's honour I'll
xxxxRespond to the taunting of this clown!
xxxxTo fight in such a tawdry way is vile
xxxxBut if declined, how would I live it down?"

[Sancho]
xxxx"Thank you Master! I will be your second!
xxxxI expect you'll trounce the cad, of course.
xxxxBut if things don't go as I've reckoned...
xxxxDo you think I could have your horse?"

---
© J Cosmo Newbery
---

XII - The Dove

The Dove

Stop a while; I’ll tell you a tale
Of how your defences can fail.
On a bright sunny day
I was carried away
When the white dove looked at me.

From among the great crowd
She stood defiant and proud;
The rest of the flock
Were just common stock
When the white dove looked at me.

What words can carry my passion?
I was swept off in a glorious fashion;
What a wonderful feeling!
My senses went reeling
When the white dove looked at me.

My friends wonder how I can bear it;
I admit their case has some merit.
It sounds quite absurd:
I fell in love with a bird
When the white dove looked at me.

Now I sit here internally bleeding
Unsure where it all is leading;
The world fell apart
And I lost my heart
When the white dove looked at me.
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© J Cosmo Newbery
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