Lazy Weekend

I have had a very lazy weekend, well that is after I had done the housework.
washing etc.Visited the Nursing Home to spend some money with the uniform supplier who was visiting with a range of her stock. I have been to church and pretty much done nothing else.
I might mention I am also cranky because my back is plating up again, I am nursing it along as I really want to be in good shape for my house move. I have potted up most of my garden that I have here. I am pleased to say that I won't be moving again. I have had several moves during the last few years that I really could have managed without, except for the wonderful friends Lyle and I made because of some of these moves.

I thought I would post some more poetry and a bit of humour as I am still arguing witih my computer re photos I wish to access, you can see who has won round six. This is an Australian poet
who I will post more about at a later date. Take care , hope all is well with everyone.





A Morning Song

The thrush is in he wattle tree, an’, “oh you pretty dear!”
He’s callin’ to his little wife for all the bush to hear.
He’s wantin’ all the bush to hear about his charmin’ hen;
He sings it over fifty times, an’ then begins again.
For it’s “Mornin’! It’s Mornin’! The world is wet with dew,
With tiny drops a-twinkle where the sun comes shinin’ thro’.

The thrush is in the wattle tree, red robin’s underneath,
The little blue-cap’s dodgin’ in an’ out amongst the heath;
An’ they’re singin’, boy they’re singin’ like they’d bust ‘emselves to bits;
While up above, old laughin’ Jack is havin’ forty fits.
For it’s Mornin’! it’s Mornin’! The leaves are all a'shine:
There’s treasure all about the place an’ all of it is mine.

Oh, it’s good to be a wealthy man, it’s grand to be a king
With mornin’ in the forest-land an’ joy in everything.
It’s fine to be a healthy man with healthy work to do
In the singin’ land, the clean land, washed again with dew.
When sunlight slants across the tress, an’birds begin to sing,
Then kings may snore in palaces, but I’m awake ……..and king.

But the king must cook his breakfast and the kin must sweep the floor;
Then out the with axe on shoulder to his kingdom at the door,
His old dog sportin’ on ahead, his troubles all behind,
An, joy mixed in the blood of him because the world is kind.
For it’s Mornin’ It’s Mornin’! Time to out an’ strive!
Oh, there’s not a thing I’m askin’ else but just to be alive!

My friends are in the underbrush, my friends are in the tress,
An, merrily they welcome me with mornin’ melodies.
Above, below, from bush an’ bough each calls his tuneful part;
An’ best of all one trusty friend is callin’ in my heart.
For it’s Mornin’! It’s Mornin’! When nights black troubles end.
An’ never man was friendless yet who stayed his own good friend.

Grey thrush is in the wattle,an’ it’s “ oh , you pretty dear!”
He’s callin to his little wife, an’ don’t care who should hear;
An' the great bush, the fresh bush, washed again with dew;
An’ my axe on my shoulder, an’ there’s work ahead to do.
Oh’ it’s Mornin’! It’s Mornin’! In the land I count the beats,
An’ with the heart, an’ mind of me I’m singin’ with the rest.

C.J Dennis (The sentimental Bloke)

Can you cry under water? How important does a person have to be before they are considered assassinated instead of just murdered? Why do you have to "put your two cents in".. but it's only a "penny for your thoughts"? Where's that extra penny going to? Once you're in heaven, do you get stuck wearing the clothes you were buried in for eternity? Why does a round pizza come in a square box? What disease did cured ham actually have? How is it that we put man on the moon before we figured out it would be a good idea to put wheels on luggage? Why is it that people say they "slept like a baby" when babies wake up like every two hours? If a deaf person has to go to court, is it still called a hearing? Why are you IN a movie, but you're ON TV? Why do people pay to go up tall buildings and then put money in binoculars to look at things on the ground? Why do doctors leave the room while you change? They're going to see you naked anyway. Why is "bra" singular and "panties" plural? Why do toasters always have a setting that burns the toast to a horrible crisp, which no decent human being would eat? If Jimmy cracks corn and no one cares, why is there a stupid song about him? Can a hearse carrying a corpse drive in the carpool lane? If the professor on Gilligan's Island can make a radio out of a coconut, why can't he fix a hole in a boat? Why does Goofy stand erect while Pluto remains on all fours? They're both dogs! If Wiley E. Coyote had enough money to buy all that ACME crap, why didn't he just buy dinner? If corn oil is made from corn, and vegetable oil is made from vegetables, what is baby oil made from? If electricity comes from electrons, does morality come from morons? Do the Alphabet song and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star have the same tune? Why did you just try singing the two songs above? Why do they call it an asteroid when it's outside the hemisphere, but call it a haemorrhoid when it's in your butt? Did you ever notice that when you blow in a dog's face, he gets mad at you, but when you take him for a car ride; he sticks his head out the window.

Some More of My favourite Poetry

Hello everybody, I am going to be very busy this coming fortnight as I am working Monday to Friday each week of this roster. I will try, to keep up my visiting and posting any time I can find a spare minute. Hope every one is OK out here in blogger land. I have posted some more of my favourite poetry hope you like it.

The Listeners

“Is there anybody there?” said the traveler,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grass
Of the forest’s ferny floor;

And a bird flew out of the turret,
Above the traveler’s head;
And he smote on the door a second time,
“Is there anybody there?” he said.

But no one descended to the traveler;
No head from the leaf-fringed sill,
Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
Where he stood perplexed and still.

But only a host of phantom listeners,
That dwelt in the lone house then,
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight,
To that voice from the world of men;

Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stairs
That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
By the lonely travelers call.

And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
Their stillness answering his cry,
While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
‘Neath the starred and leafy sky.

For he suddenly smote on the door,
Even louder, and lifted his head……
“Tell them I came, and no one answered,
That I kept my word he said,” he said.

Never the least stir made the listeners,
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house,
From the one man left awake;

Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone.

Walter de la Mare

Cargoes

QUINQUIREME of Nineveh from distant Ophir,
Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine,
With a cargo of ivory,
And apes and peacocks,
Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.

Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,
Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores,
With a cargo of diamonds,
Emeralds, amythysts,
Topazes, and cinnamon, and gold moidores.

Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack,
Butting through the Channel in the mad March days,
With a cargo of Tyne coal,
Road-rails, pig-lead,
Firewood, iron-ware, and cheap tin trays.

John Masefield

Mrs Gold bloom is playing in the shallows of Hamilton Island with her four year old grandson Aaron on a beautiful sunny day. Suddenly the sky darkens and it starts raining, there’s a clap of thunder, a bolt of lightening and a huge wave crashes onto the shore sweeping Aaron out to sea. With dismay, she looks down at the spot where Aaron used to be then looks up into the heaven and wails, “You call yourself a merciful God? I am an eighty year old woman, I have lived through two world wars, and all sorts of tragedy and you choose to take the apple of my eye, my only grandson, Aaron… You call yourself a merciful God?”

With that there is another clap of thunder, another bolt of lightening and yet another wave crashes onto the beach depositing young Aaron unharmed and laughing, playing with his bucket and spade as if nothing had happened.

Mrs Goldbloom looks down at her grandson, looks up to the sky says to God, “He had a hat.”

Poetry and Humour.

Hello everyone I am a little busy with work at the moment, therefore, I have decided to post a couple of my favourite poems The first is a well loved Australian Poem, the second by an English poet.

The Women Of The West.

They left the vine-wreathed cottage and the mansion on the hill,
The houses in the busy streets where life was never still,
The pleasures of the city, and the friends they cherished best;
For love they faced the wilderness—the Women of the West.

The roar, the rush, and fever of the city dies away,
And the old time joys and faces- they were gone for many a day;
In their place the lurching coach-wheel, or the creaking bullock-chains,
O’er the everlasting sameness of the never-ending plains.

In the slab-built, zinc roofed homestead of some lately taken run,
In the tent beside the bankment of a railway just begun,
In the huts on new selections, in the camps of man’s unrest,
On the frontiers of the Nation, live the Women of the West.

The red sun robs their beauty and, in weariness and pain,
The slow years steal the nameless grace that never comes again;
And there are hours men cannot soothe, and words men cannot say-
The nearest woman’s face may be a hundred miles away.

The wild bush holds their secrets of their longing and desires,
When the white stars in reverence light their holy altar fires,
And silence like the touch of God, sinks deep into the breast-
Perchance he hears and understands the women of the West.

For them no trumpet sounds the call, no poet plies his arts,
They only hear the beating of their gallant, loving hearts.
But they have sung with silent lives the song all songs above-
The holiness of sacrifice, the dignity of love.

Well have we held our father’s creed. No call has passed us by,
We faced and fought the wilderness, we sent our sons to die.
And we have hearts to do and dare, and yet o’er all the rest,
The hearts that made the Nation were the Women of the West.

George Essex Evans

Sea Fever

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide,
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

John Masefield 1879

Why I fired my Secretary

LAST WEEK WAS MY BIRTHDAY AND I DIDN'T FEEL VERY WELL WAKING UP THAT

MORNING. I WENT DOWNSTAIRS FOR BREAKFAST HOPING MY WIFE WOULD BE

PLEASANT AND SAY, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!", AND POSSIBLY HAVE A PRESENT FOR ME.

AS IT TURNED OUT, SHE BARELY SAID GOOD MORNING, LET ALONE "HAPPY

BIRTHDAY."

I THOUGHT... WELL, THAT'S MARRIAGE FOR YOU, BUT THE KIDS WILL REMEMBER.

MY KIDS CAME INTO BREAKFAST AND DIDN'T SAY A WORD.

SO WHEN I LEFT FOR THE OFFICE, I WAS FEELING PRETTY LOW AND SOMEWHAT

DESPONDENT. AS I WALKED INTO MY OFFICE, MY SECRETARY JANE SAID, "GOOD

MORNING, BOSS, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" IT FELT A LITTLE BETTER THAT AT LEAST

SOMEONE HAD REMEMBERED.

I WORKED UNTIL ONE O'CLOCK AND THEN JANE KNOCKED ON MY DOOR AND SAID,

"YOU KNOW, IT'S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL DAY OUTSIDE, AND IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY,

LET'S GO OUT TO LUNCH, JUST YOU AND ME." I SAID, "THANKS JANE, THAT'S

THE GREATEST THING I'VE HEARD ALL DAY. LET'S GO!"

WE WENT TO LUNCH. BUT WE DIDN'T GO WHERE WE NORMALLY WOULD GO. WE DINED

INSTEAD AT A LITTLE PLACE WITH A PRIVATE TABLE. WE HAD TWO MARTINIS EACH

AND I ENJOYED THE MEAL TREMENDOUSLY.

ON THE WAY BACK TO THE OFFICE, JANE SAID, "YOU KNOW, IT'S SUCH A

BEAUTIFUL DAY... WE DON'T NEED TO GO BACK TO THE OFFICE, DO WE?" I

RESPONDED, "I GUESS NOT. WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN MIND?" SHE SAID, "LET'S GO

TO MY APARTMENT."

AFTER ARRIVING AT HER APARTMENT JANE TURNED TO ME AND SAID, "BOSS, IF

YOU DON'T MIND, I'M GOING TO STEP INTO THE BEDROOM FOR A MOMENT. I'LL BE

RIGHT BACK."

"OK." I NERVOUSLY REPLIED.

SHE WENT INTO THE BEDROOM AND, AFTER A COUPLE OF MINUTES, SHE CAME OUT

CARRYING A HUGE BIRTHDAY CAKE... FOLLOWED BY MY WIFE, KIDS, AND DOZENS

OF MY FRIENDS AND CO-WORKERS, ALL SINGING "HAPPY BIRTHDAY".

AND I JUST SAT THERE....

ON THE COUCH.............

NAKED