Oh my days, I was about to post the very same Suzi.

Nowhere near as profound as yours suzi, but a powerful moral message:

Matilda Who Told Lies 


Matilda told such Dreadful Lies,
It made one Gasp and Stretch one's Eyes;
Her Aunt, who, from her Earliest Youth,
Had kept a Strict Regard for Truth,
Attempted to Believe Matilda: 
The effort very nearly killed her, 
And would have done so, had not She
Discovered this Infirmity.

For once, towards the Close of Day, 
Matilda, growing tired of play, 
And finding she was left alone,
Went tiptoe to the Telephone 
And summoned the Immediate Aid
Of London's Noble Fire-Brigade. 

Within an hour the Gallant Band 
Were pouring in on every hand,
From Putney, Hackney Downs, and Bow 
With Courage high and Hearts aglow 
They galloped, roaring through the Town,
'Matilda's House is Burning Down!' 

Inspired by British Cheers and Loud 
Proceeding from the Frenzied Crowd, 
They ran their ladders through a score
Of windows on the Ball Room Floor; 
And took Peculiar Pains to Souse
The Pictures up and down the House,

Until Matilda's Aunt succeeded 
In showing them they were not needed;
And even then she had to pay 
To get the Men to go away! . . . . 

It happened that a few Weeks later 
Her Aunt was off to the Theatre 
To see that Interesting Play 
The Second Mrs Tanqueray. 
She had refused to take her Niece 
To hear this entertaining Piece: 
A Deprivation Just and Wise 
To Punish her for Telling Lies.

That Night a Fire did break out - 
You should have heard Matilda Shout! 
You should have heard her Scream and Bawl,
And throw the window up and call 
To People passing in the Street - 

(The rapidly increasing Heat 
Encouraging her to obtain
Their confidence) - but all in vain!
For every time She shouted 'Fire!' 
They only answered 'Little Liar'!
And therefore when her Aunt returned,
Matilda, and the House, were Burned. 

by Hillaire Belloc

I'm loving this guys work he 'animates' all the faves.

Oooh, I don't know   a good few I could choose from. I'll come back tomorrow prolly ( I'm off on holiday, coz the washer man's coming to sort me out)   and post something I like. At the minute I'm thinking of Nickelback's ' If today was your last day '

I studied this during my English degree and it had me in knots laughing in a kinda Father Ted way 


Tullynoe: Tête-à-Tête in the Parish Priest’s Parlour by Paul Durcan 

‘Ah, he was a grand man.’ 
‘He was: he fell out of the train going to Sligo.’ 
‘He did: he thought he was going to the lavatory.’ 
‘He did: in fact he stepped out the rear door of the train.’ 
‘He did: God, he must have got an awful fright.’ 
‘He did: he saw that it wasn’t the lavatory at all.’ 
‘He did: he saw that it was the railway tracks going away from him.’ 
‘He did: I wonder if .... but he was a grand man.’ 
‘He was: he had the most expensive Toyota you can buy.’ 
‘He had: well, it was only beautiful.’ 
‘It was: he used to have an Audi.’ 
‘He had: then he had an Avenger.’ 
‘He had: and then he had a Volvo.’ 
‘He had: in the beginning he had a lot of Volkses.’ 
‘He had: he was a great man for the Volkses.’ 
‘He was: did he once have an Escort?’ 
He had not: he had a son a doctor.’ 
‘He had: he had a Morris Minor too.’ 
‘He had: and he had a sister a hairdresser in Kilmallock.’ 
‘He had: he had another sister a hairdresser in Ballybunnion.’ 
‘He had: he was put in a coffin which was put in his father’s cart.’ 
‘He was: his lady wife sat on top of the coffin driving the donkey.’ 
‘She did: Ah, but he was a grand man.’ 
‘He was: he was a grand man...’ 
‘Good night, Father.’ 
‘Good night Mary.’

RExi!  That was bloody brilliant!  I was grinning ear to ear.

Cologne, that is so beautiful!  I love all those folk songs from the 60's.

Cheers suzi - I just wish I'd chosen somewhere to C&P from that didn't have such extraneous use of leading capitals!!

Pengles - I'm trying to get my head round yours (I think you have to be clever!!)

Pengy, that is too funny!  I remember the Father Ted where they were decorating the tree:

The lights aren't working.
Oh, they're on.
Now they're off.
They're on.
They're off.
They're on.
No, they're off again!

tis easy Rexicles - picture Fr Ted and Mrs Doyle having this conversation  all the 'he did's are Mrs Doyle and all the statements are Fr Ted 

I'm sorry, I'm carp at lyrics because I am, after all, German.  I try to understand them, I didn't when I was young and I just don't remember, other than maybe, I can't get no' because I remember where I was the first time I heard it and I was totally swept off by the Stones. Ageed 13.

ahhh, that could be why it went whooosh ... I've never seen an episode of Father Ted in my life

Another favourite:

WHEN I AM AN OLD WOMAN I SHALL WEAR PURPLE
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Suzi - that poem Warning is another favourite of mine  

I love that poem ... and it is probably about time I got started

I thought you already had 

The only poem I remember by heart


The sea is big, the sea is blue
It's big enough for me and you
It's big enough for everybody
So come and splash with little Noddy


It was my party piece as a child

are you referring to making up for the sobriety of youth?

or the spitting thing?

Damn that it was before youtube sooz

SONG
by: Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)


WHEN I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree:
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget.


I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain;
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget.

An extract from "Sunday Morning Coming Down" by Kriss Kristofferson.

Well, I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad,
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.

I think these lines are simply brilliant:-

Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.

I know ............so much untapped talent in this world. If I'd have been on Britains Got Talent I would have got a standing ovation and moved the audience to tears.

My follow up would have been

Parp, parp get out of my way
My cars in a terrible hurry today

Unfortunately I cannot now remember the rest but .................these were classics!

And can anyone honestly say they have never done that??

how terribly sad sooz

Oh, No! We Never Mention Her
by Thomas Haynes Bayley   (1797-1830)


Oh, No! we never mention her, her name is never heard;
My lips are now forbid to speak that once familiar word:
From sport to sport they hurry me, to banish my regret;
And when they win a smile from me, they think that I forget.


They bid me seek in change of scene the charms that others see;
But were I in a foreign land, they'd find no change in me.
'Tis true that I behold no more the valley where we met,
I do not see the hawthorn-tree; but how can I forget?


For oh! There are so many things recall the past to me, -
The breeze upon the sunny hill, the billows on the sea;
The rosy tint that decks the sky before the sun is set, -
Ay, every leaf I look upon forbids me to forget.


They tell me she is happy now, the gayest of the gay;
They hint that she forgets me too, - I heed not what they say:
Perhaps like me she struggles with each feeling of regret;
But if she loves as I have loved, she never can forget.

At Lunchtime by Roger McGough. A female friend of mine who had the gifts of rhythm and diction recited this into us.

Ooooooooooooooh Brisket - I love that one.

Oh I am pleased Soozy. 

Right, this is a poem by Goethe, that we had to learn off by heart and it creeped the beejesus out of me. :
Who rides so late through the windy night?
The father holding his young son so tight.
The boy is cradled safe in his arm,
He holds him sure and he holds him warm.

2. Why is your face so frightened my son?
The King of elves, father, see him yon?
The Elfin King with his tail and crown?
It is the fog, my son, streaming down.

3. Yes, you my dear child, come go with me!
The games I play, you'll like them, come see.
The shore is coloured with flow'rs in bloom,
My mother's gold gowns, you will see soon.

4. Oh father, father, can you not hear
What the elfking promises? I fear!
Be calm, stay quiet my dearest son,
The wind blows the dry leaves of autumn.

5. My darling boy, won't you come with me?
I have daughters in whose care you'll be.
My daughters dance round the fairy ring.
Each night they'll cradle you, dance and sing.

6. Father, dear father, can you not see
The elf king's daughter staring at me?
My son, my son, I see it so well:
Gray meadows on which the moonlight fell.

7. I love you for your beauty of course,
If free you'll not come, I will use force.
Father, dear father, he's touching me.
Of elf king's hurt, father please, free me.

8. Dread grips the father, he spurs the roan,
In loving arms he feels the boy moan.
At last, the courtyard, with fear and dread,
He looks at the child; the boy is dead.

Fancy making children learn that! That's horrible beyond belief!

The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine-and-fifty Swans.
The nineteenth autumn has come upon me
Since I first made my count;
I saw, before I had well finished,
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings.
I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,
And now my heart is sore.
All's changed since I, hearing at twilight,
The first time on this shore,
The bell-beat of their wings above my head,
Trod with a lighter tread.
Unwearied still, lover by lover,
They paddle in the cold
Companionable streams or climb the air;
Their hearts have not grown old;
Passion or conquest, wander where they will,
Attend upon them still.
But now they drift on the still water,
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake's edge or pool
Delight men's eyes when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?

Do you know much about Heine Frau Koleln? I'd never heard of him until I went up the Brocken and saw a memorial! I'm quite fond of Wilhelm Busch (sp) and the Max und Moritz stuff, a bit dark but lovely illustrations.

Blimey, Col..! 

OK, I'm relying on memory here (not the most reliable), but here's something by Spike Milligan:

I am a merry boxer
I get into the ring
Wallop! Wallop! Thud! I go
Until the bell goes ding!

When the bell goes ding again
I rush back to my stool
And stare at my opponent
The ugly little fool

Ding!  There goes the bell again
I rush back to the bout
Wallop!  Wallop, Crash. Thud, Bang!
....nine, ten OUT!

It's worse in German soozy, trust me. I remember the night I went across the road to my mate's house to make a last ditch attempt at getting it right. They had a huge house with big gardens around, same as ours, it was only 6 o'clock, but pitch dark and I remember thinking that I really didn't want to go home alone, but there was nothing for it, I run like hell and, thankfully, my mother was standing on the back balcony watching me coming home. The relief is something I will never forget.

More specifically:

So if it feels cold tonight
without this someone in your arms
you should know the stars burn bright

<3

Yes Joe, I love Heine and Max and Moritz as well as Struvvelpeter. Very dark, as you say, but we were all brought up with those stories. But then, of course, there's Emil and the Detectives, Pippi Longstocking, Heidi, the borrowers, etc, etc,

The Smiths .. The Queen is Dead..
So I broke into the palace
With a sponge and a rusty spanner
She said `I know you and you cannot sing`
I said `Thats nothing, you should hear me play piano`...


Not very highbrow but it makes me smile

What a wonderful thread!

(extracts - Memphis Minnie - Me & My Chauffeur Blues)

Won't you be my chauffeur
Won't you be my chauffeur
I want someone to drive me
I want someone to drive me
Down town
Baby drives so easy
I can't turn him down

.....
Well I must buy him
Well I must buy him
A brand new V-8
A brand new V-8 Ford
And he won't need no passengers
I will be his load

(Yeah, take it away)