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And ~ I loved your cheese mouse snack rat one, too, SWITZ !

Oh, schoot! This went to the top of the next page, so it's not even connected to what I've been laughing at ~ well, perhaps, it'll result in some re-reads of the page prior.

Linda wroted:

May your weasel of wisdom and your cricket of creativity deaden your pain. I wish I had known of the depths to which you had fallen, Fair Lady Laurie. I would have written a tome. For you. Alome.

Hey! I think I have a muse in my shoes. I'll get started on that tome straight away!

Dearest Linda~

In the past, when i have had a 'muse in my shoes' I have found that moleskin works quite well to prevent callouses.
My parrot of patience tells me to be calm, while waiting for my tome. But me and my husky of haste are panting with excitement!.
And thanks for all the empathy. Being a jealous bitch is not easy, so your words of understanding really help.

Lizz~~Glad you enjoyed. Gawd, the concept is Sooo funny to me!! (as you can tell).

L

"I'll get started on that tome straight away!" is that a'tome right away or while you're in work?

There's no "i" in team and there's no "p" in urine


......couldn't think of anything....uh..oh...click...

And there's no 'f' in sex.

There is no 't' in China.

Have a nice weak end....

Hey! Henning started a thread and provided a link to something related to this poem of Andrew's. Now that I am somewhere that I can listen [if it's in that form], I've tried to locate it. Did it disappear, pending revisions, per Andrew's request?

~ Lizzy

Look at heroes falling from heaven in this poetry forum.......

Thanks, Byron....now I'll have to wait til tomorrow, though. It's time to go home.

As indicated earlier on this thread, I've edited Heroes. So, here goes:


Heroes.

The children's section in our library
was stacked with adventures: Biggles books
the patriotic stuff for boys like me.
We'd conquer every danger, bond
with heroes who fought to save the world.

My uncle Fred arrived one night,
caught me reading by torchlight, said
It's good to study; here's some money.
Two shillings dropped from his pocket,
landed between the pages where Bertie
and Algie helped Biggles rescue
Indo-Chinese slaves. His breath smelled of beer,

his clothes, coal-dust. He died before
they told me he'd flown a Spitfire.




Is this the end of this thread?

Yours, in anticipation,
Andrew.

P.S. If the 3 D.B.s have sobered up, perhaps they too may wish to place a closure on this topic.

Dear Andrew~

Good to see the revision.

Speaking of 'adventures,' those DB's sure took ver. 1 for ride.
I, for one am appalled about their behavior. *I* would never do such a thing to a helpess, innocent poem. Whoops, my halo, just slipped off my head.......

About the edit, I only have a couple of comments/suggestions.
You already have my previous comments about all the things I like about this piece, so I'll just point to a few things that stand out to me:

The children's section in our library
was stacked with adventures: Biggles books
the patriotic stuff for boys like me.
We'd conquer every danger, bond
with heroes who fought to save the world.

I think directing the reader Specifically to the Biggles series would help. The use of "adventures" is generic and then points to a specific. Logic would have it that Biggles would not be the ONLY adventures on a library shelf.

The children's section in our library
was stacked with their adventures: Biggles books

By simply adding "their" it makes the whole statement specific.

The only other thing here that stood out to me was the word: "bond"
I simply think it needs to be: "bonding"

The children's section in our library
was stacked with their adventures: Biggles books
the patriotic stuff for boys like me.
We'd conquer every danger, bonding
with heroes who fought to save the world.

What do you think?

The second stanza, frankly, I did like the visual of the out-turned-pockets you previously described. I think it would fit in here nicely and seems a bit of an inebriated thing to do (portray).

My uncle Fred arrived one night,
caught me reading by torchlight, said
It's good to study; here's some money.
Two shillings dropped from his pocket,
landed between the pages where Bertie
and Algie helped Biggles rescue
Indo-Chinese slaves. His breath smelled of beer,

It could be:
Two shillings dropped from his out-turned pocket,

And my last (insert sigh of relief here) opinion is that LANDED should be LandING:

My uncle Fred arrived one night,
caught me reading by torchlight, said
It's good to study; here's some money.
Two shillings dropped from his out-turned
pocket, landing between the pages where
Bertie....

Ummm, did i mention this would screw up your current line-breaks? Sorry.

I'll make sure no one buys this poem a beer(s) or hijacks it to seedy hotels, monuments etc.

Great poem!
And you have been such a good sport!

regards,
Laurie

Well, MY halo is still squarely in place [oh, they're round?] ~ however, I did have a question as to how the coins serendipitously/coincidentally 'dropped' from his pockets at just the moment he mentioned [well-trained or intuitive coins it would seem] money.

I would be tempted to say, "turned-out pockets" [for me, that gives a clearer sense of immediacy, i.e. he just turned them out vs. he walked into the room with them already in that state, and then the coins [wedged into the corner fold of them] somehow knew to just 'drop' on cue.

Or, I'd be more tempted [if it could be made to fit] to say something like, "two shillings landed between the pages as/when he fumbled with his pocket." No better advice do I have to give on that one .

Then there is I. I wear no halo and never have. Probably never will either. But, I liked this poem from the beginning - and I feel the same way, still:

My uncle Fred arrived one night,
caught me reading by torchlight, said
It's good to study; here's some money.
Two shillings dropped from his pocket,
landed between the pages where Bertie
and Algie helped Biggles rescue
Indo-Chinese slaves. His breath smelled of beer,

his clothes, coal-dust. He died before
they told me he'd flown a Spitfire.



For me, this is the best. I don't care where the quarters came from or how, really. But, they landed "between the pages where Bertie ....His breath smelled of beer". Then the Spitfire. For me, the entire poem hinges on that last line. It's the line that leaves the biggest impression. "He died before they told me he'd flown a Spitfire". That sums it up. It's a darling of a poem (sorry, for the overly sentimental sentiment). But, I think that that line that makes "Heroes", heroes.

Thanks for the ride.

Linda.

Hi Andrew

I seem to like the word (racing) rather than bond. I don't have time to give the Reader's Digest version right now of why.....it friday!!! scratch...scratch...wag..wag..wag........

Craig