BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: Jack Blandiver
Date: 26 May 09 - 12:42 PM

Not usually being inclined to pedantry, but do you really mean barter there, WAV? Or are you thinking of haggling? There is a difference, and with all your anti-Capitalist protesting one would thing bartering would something you'd be in favour of.

http://www.wsu.edu/~brians/errors/barter.html

Otherwise haggling is the stuff of life; it's how we in the Family Sedayne buy everything from Victorian terraced houses to brand-new banjos. It never causes anger because it establishes a beneficial mutuality of contract - and always works both ways. Some years ago I gave a stall-holder £20 for a copy of the 1958 Oor Wullie Book he had marked up for 75p. I then marked it up at £60, though accepted £50 on it. God knows how much it's worth now.

If God created evolution, then he also created haggling. Never works in supermarkets and shops though, chiz, though occasionally I might flatter an Asda checkout girl into giving me a free shopping bag.

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 26 May 09 - 03:11 PM

Thanks S. for the correction over what I meant - even though we disagree on it...

Poem 215 of 230: MOODS MORE NICE

As haggling
Tends to cause
Some wrangling,
Seeing price
Tends to cause
Moods more nice.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: Jack Blandiver
Date: 26 May 09 - 03:44 PM

Do you get to the Tynemouth Metro Station Flee-market at weekends, WAV? If not - do so; it's a great place to sharpen your haggling skills, or else acquire a taste for it...

A couple of years back a stall-holder had an antique Clarkes-type German Calura tin-whistle (in E) marked up for £5. Knowing it was maybe worth three or four times that amount at least, quite naturally I offered him £3, being prepared to pay £4. The vendor refused to budge on his asking price so I told him to go fuck himself and passed on to the next stall where the holder was more amenable to this most ancient forms of human communication. A few months later, I noticed the first stall-holder had the Calura tin-whistle in his Everything for 50p tin; naturally I bought it without haggling, but pointed out that had he been prepared to play the game he'd have made £3.50 on it.
"Doesn't even work anyway," he said, pocketing his 50p.
"Oh no?" says I, busy with my trusty Opinel pen-knife, a quick lift of the lip and lo! the sweetest Irish air (Samhradh, Samhradh) thrills into the air. My parting shot: "And by the way - it's actually worth £35."

Actually, maybe you're right about niceness, but I do enjoy small moral victories in the cause of humanity. A refusal to haggle is a refusal to engage with life, and I've never been too convinced that niceness is that desirable a quality in a person. Certainly I don't have any nice people in my little gang...

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 27 May 09 - 10:29 AM

Poem 179 of 230: A GLASSY TYNE - AUTUMN 2001

Near glassy-classical new Law Courts,
    From the snazzy Millennium Footbridge,
Reflecting fine bridges of other sorts -
    A glassy Tyne's snazzy sunset image.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: Stu
Date: 27 May 09 - 11:18 AM

"I've never been too convinced that niceness is that desirable a quality in a person"

woof woof woof!

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 28 May 09 - 04:06 AM

Poem of 160 of 230: MACCLESFIELD - SUMMER 2001

After hearing the ways
    Of the old silk-weaving trade,
While being served some tea,
    Within the Mulberry Tree,
Memories came back to me
    Of - during my infant days -
Feeding 'worms till sheaths were made.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 29 May 09 - 04:58 AM

Poem 127 of 230: TO SPACIOUS SOUTHPORT - AUTUMN 2000

Most of the leaves
    Of poplar trees
Had fallen free
    When to the sea,
By bus then train,
    In stop/start rain,
I headed-down
    From Radcliffe Town.

After Wigan,
    The train began
To pass across
    What to me was
A coastal plain
    To see again -
With varied crops,
    And grazing op's.

From the station,
    Reconstruction
Soon came to eye
    As I walked, by
The gallery,
    Toward the sea,
And thereby thought:
    "Spacious Southport."

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: mandotim
Date: 29 May 09 - 07:29 AM

Grazing op's'????????? Please explain WAV, I desperately need to understand what an op is, and what it grazes on. Are they dangerous? How many legs do they have?

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 29 May 09 - 08:40 AM

Grazing operations, Tim - sheep (4), cattle (4), etc.

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: mandotim
Date: 29 May 09 - 08:50 AM

Oh, you mean 'grazing ops', as in 'operations', plural, no apostrophe, forced rhyme? Sorry to have troubled you.

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 29 May 09 - 10:17 AM

Oops - surely it has to be either "op's" or "op.s", T. "Ops" is not an option as it is not a word.

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 29 May 09 - 03:32 PM

Then, again, whilst "ops" is not in any of my dictionaries, it is in my spelling guide, so I think I'll go with your way, thanks, Tim.

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 30 May 09 - 03:46 AM

Poem 85 of 230: LANDMINES

I'm thinking of Sting's song "Russians,"
    Which notes the ways wars can be fought;
He highlights nuclear weapons,
    And there's another crazy sort:

Landmines kill and maim innocents,
    Long after their targets have fled;
To them should go layers' repents,
    And mine production should be dead.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 31 May 09 - 04:29 AM

Poem 167 of 230: WITHIN CHESTER CATHEDRAL'S CLOISTERS - SUMMER 2001

After a wall-view
    Of the neat city;
Off a square in squares,
    From a bronze statue,
Falling on a pool,
    Rippling out towards
Lilies, ferns and reeds:
    Water - sounding cool.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: GUEST,Sedayne (Astray)
Date: 31 May 09 - 11:10 AM

Next time you're there, WAV, look up!

WITHIN CHESTER CATHEDRAL'S CLOISTERS - SUMMER 2006:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NqZ24yVM4g4

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 31 May 09 - 11:42 AM

I'll try and remember that, S. - certainly a nice place to visit/revisit.

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: olddude
Date: 31 May 09 - 12:26 PM

Nice images come to mind in the latest verses. I never been to those places but would certainly like to someday ... they sound wonderful actually

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: olddude
Date: 31 May 09 - 12:32 PM

David
where is South port located, in what part of Great Britain is it a fishing port with farms and shops ... are their a lot of tourists in the area. Sounds like a beautiful place

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 31 May 09 - 01:10 PM

Southport is on the coast of Lancashire, North West England, Olddude - there are tourists but not to the extent of nearby Blackpool.

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: s&r
Date: 31 May 09 - 02:10 PM

Merseyside; part of the borough of Sefton. It is in the north west of England though,

Stu

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 31 May 09 - 05:09 PM

Okay, Stu, but..."Southport...historically a part of Lancashire" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Southport)

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: s&r
Date: 31 May 09 - 06:36 PM

In which case 'Southport was on the coast of Lancashire'. Grammar or fact, take your pick.

Stu

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 01 Jun 09 - 04:20 AM

Poem 136 of 230: LANCASHIRE SUNG SIMPLY

(TUNE:

D A Bb A
D A Bb A G F F
D A Bb A
D A Bb A G F F)

Lancashire:
Cut by rivers, met by sea;
Patched by farmland,
Mills and other industry.

Lancashire:
With your links-lands by the sea;
Rough left wild,
Greens and fairways clipped neatly.

Lancashire:
With your Pennine boundary;
Steeped in history,
Through your buildings, there to see.

Lancashire:
Where, through Graces, moorlands be;
Wooded parklands,
Flowered gardens - kept neatly.

Lancashire:
Red Rose County, God's blessed thee.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 02 Jun 09 - 04:47 AM

Poem 43 of 230: A BAYSWATER BED-SIT

Arrived in London,
    At Heathrow Airport,
With sixty kilos
    Of luggage I'd brought.

Found a paper, Loot,
    And called an agent;
Stored two heavy bags,
    Then to him I went.

For one week of rent,
    He'd ensure a bed
Within Bayswater -
    A bed-sit, he said.

It was eighty pounds
    Per week, nothing more,
With a lift arranged
    To the building's door.

Knackered and sleepless,
    I took the deal;
Checked-in quickly,
    Had a rushed meal.

Collected my bags
    (Tube there, shared-van back),
Then carried them up
    To my top-floor shack.

A penthouse - no need,
    It did me just fine;
A cook-top and fridge,         
    A table to dine.

Seated, I could watch
    The clouds roll by -
Often from the west -
    Or jets cut the sky.

There were large plane-trees,
    A squirrel or two;
And pigeons dropped by -
    Foregrounding the view.

Plus, at dawn, the sun
    Shined in from the east -
Filling the small room
    As on egg I'd feast.

And, contemplating,
    It occurs to me -
If all lived that well,
    How great it would be.

But a lot do sleep
    Outdoors many nights -
On sheets of cardboard,
    Without basic rights.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 03 Jun 09 - 04:26 AM

Poem 11 of 230: OTHER SIDE

On the road from Inverness to Glasgow
    (A very scenic road it is),
I hitched with a pair - Italiano;
    The left-hand-drive Fiat was his.

I think they had taken turns at driving -
    I'm not sure from where or how far;
But, when they picked me up from my hiking,
    The lady was driving the car.

I recall how warm their greet did feel,
    And what a thrilling trip it was;
For, as their hands fought over the wheel,
    Our lives came near to loss:

I was sitting tight on the back-right side -
    My ears off their argument;
But my eyes surely knew how close beside
    The oncoming vehicles went!

We arrived without a scratch at Glasgow,
    But it begs this point, I feel -
Why did our forebears decide to go
    Either side for the new wheel?

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 04 Jun 09 - 05:00 AM

I was there 21 years ago...

Poem 20 of 230: CHINA AND INDIA

China and India:
    Dense populations both;
But China is, by far,
    Much more humane - my oath;
For through both I took trains,
    And saw the gap in pains.

China and India:
    Great cuisines they have both;
But China is, by far,
    Much more humane - my oath;
For not once in packed China
    Was I begged by a minor.

China and India:
    Lasting cultures in both;
But china is, by far,
    Much more humane - my oath;
For India does need
    Left-policies - indeed!

(China and India:
    Many creatures in both;
But, in this case, China
    Is less kindly - my oath;
For, on pain, they fret less
    In keeping their food fresh.)

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 05 Jun 09 - 04:27 AM

Poem 21 of 230: BOMBAY PORTER

Awaiting a train in Bombay,
    I was shocked into dismay;
For a well-dressed man, built strongly,
    Was walking, his hands set free,
Ahead of a bony porter -
    Heavy case on head, no quarter.

Shortly later, I watched again
    As out from the rich-man's train
Came the scrawny struggling porter -
    His thin back now much tauter;
For he writhed as he stretched his loins -
    After a quick count of few coins.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 06 Jun 09 - 05:09 AM

Poem 212 of 230: REMEMBER THEM?

Back when we became defenders
    (We have plainly been attackers),
Defenders' blood, sweat and years
    Were paid to keep a good home-way -
A way yet to be part stealth-blown,
    As mass immigration gained-sway
And as we slipped as maintainers.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 07 Jun 09 - 04:38 AM

Poem 159 of 230: WINDERMERE - SUMMER 2001

Some thirteen years from my first visit
    (Then, dropped from hitching, just near;
This time, by train and a downhill walk),
    I arrived at Windermere:

On the ferry Miss Cumbria Three,
    A chill-out trip to Ambleside -
Viewing the trees, the farms, the fells,
    And the more sporty ways to ride.

Once there, an uphill walk through the shops
    Led to a leaf, rock and root track,
With a stalactite-like mossy falls,
    And a bridge - starting the way back.

Track-side, gripping the ghyll, ancient woods
    Shaded what was a sunny day,
And the falling stream gave sound strongly -
    Calming the soul a further way.

Then home - again charmed by the thin-stone
    Minimum-mortar kept buildings,
The surrounds of England's largest lake,
    And movie train-window viewings.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 08 Jun 09 - 04:16 AM

(I wouldn't mind being volleyed back atop, Mods - it's a bit lonely down here.)

Poem 105 of 230: GLOBAL REGULATIONISM

No income-scale would be unjust -
    It's a matter of degree;
And, to have less inequality,
    Regulations are a must.

For, in Millennium's status quo,
    The pay-gaps for human work,
And what's gotten simply as a perk,
    Are wrong - inhumanely so.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 09 Jun 09 - 04:43 AM

Poem 64 of 230: LIVERPOOL

Caught a train, along a long-used line,
    From Manchester to Liverpool.
On that day the weather was fine:
    Sunny - just a little bit cool.
There, I purchased a Walkabout Guide,
    Marked some sights, and headed outside.

As usual when first at such a place,
    I walked to the main art-gallery,
The central mall, and the garden space;
    Then headed down to the wide Mersey.
There, from ferry, I viewed the skyline -
    A good sturdy cityscape, for mine.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 10 Jun 09 - 04:38 AM

WALKABOUTSVERSE 7 OF 230
Category: Writing and Poetry
Poem 7 of 230: RECENT HISTORY

There's a place called Sovereign Hill,
    Nigh the city of Ballarat,
With dated representations -
    And they're authentic ones at that.

You can pan for gold at the creek,
    Write some lines with inkwell and quill,
See bread baked the colonial way
    Or a blacksmith at his anvil.

There's a, pre-plastics, bowling lane -
    With everything made in wood;
A painted-photo studio,
    And a saloon built as they stood.

Ride in a draft-horse drawn carriage,
    See the front gardens of the day,
Read-up on mining history,
    Or watch costumed-revellers play.

And, just beside the "old" village,
    Should you decide to see some more,
There's homely accommodation;
    But heed - Kooris came long before.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 11 Jun 09 - 04:38 AM

Poem/Song/Chant 111 of 230: THE MERSEY AT DIDSBURY - SPRING 2000

(TUNE:

Eb F G Ab G
D F G Ab G
D F G Ab G
D G Ab Bb Ab
D G Ab Bb Ab
D F G Ab G)

Took bus one-four-three,                        
    From Piccadilly,
Along Oxford Road;
    Passed the old uni's,
Those shops with saris,
    And my first abode.

At Didsbury Village,
    The Old Parsonage
Looked neat, and gave sound,
    As I walked the way,
At about midday,
    To a Mersey mound.

From atop this bank,
    No longer a blank
Was the strong river,
    Nor the wide fairways -
Where I'd filled two days,
    Twelve years earlier.

I then headed back,
    On Stenner Woods' track
(Hearing more birdsong,
    And seeing mossed stumps
Plus well-layered clumps),
    To a human throng.

This throng was viewing -
    Justly pursuing -
The smart Rock Gardens,
    Sloped on Fletcher Moss,
Which I, too, did cross,
    Before homeward wends.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 12 Jun 09 - 04:34 AM

Poem 180 of 230: WHITLEY BAY FISHERMEN - AUTUMN 2001

But for the ghostly lighthouse on Saint Mary's,
    The, matching, moonlit-wash of broken waves,
The distant bulbs of liners sailing the seas,
    The Down Under's lights, from human-made caves,
And the inland blooms of Friday's zeal,
    Their night's beach fishing was all by feel.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 13 Jun 09 - 05:40 AM

Poem 54 of 230: HOBSON'S CHOICE

During a day trip to Cambridge,
    My uncle showed the confined space
That left punters no choice to face -
    Using Hobson's trade of carriage.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 14 Jun 09 - 05:03 AM

Poem 16 of 230: A BEAUTIFUL STAGE

If a couple, with plans to wed,
    Asked me, off the top of my head,
For somewhere I thought well in-tune
    As a place for a honeymoon,
It would have - flashing back - to be
    Beautifully-honed Italy.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 15 Jun 09 - 04:39 AM

Poem 156 of 230: EASTBOURNE - SUMMER 2001

On the day before the solstice,
    I first sighted Eastbourne:
A beautiful elegant place -
    English culture untorn.

Two long days allowed two long lanes
    To be walked before dark -
One after travel on four trains,
    One post-Devonshire Park.

The first was between sea and heath,
    And gardens signed by post,
Then up the Downs to view, beneath,
    The brutal handsome coast.

The next, contrasting that before,
    Showed all kinds of vessels -
Parked up along the pebbly shore
    And in marina cells.

(But, as for the women's tennis,
    It soon became a qualm -
As I was put-off by what is
    A great strain on their arm.)

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 16 Jun 09 - 04:37 AM

Poem 113 of 230: FOLLOWING THE SUN - SPRING 2000

Having moved, by buses, up the hill from Salford to Bury
    (To be within walk of new work, again),
These stimuli surround between my abode and the factory
    As I follow the sun - its wax, its wane:
Walking toward work and the rising sun, a morning chorus
    Rides the crisp breezy air of hill-farmland,
While gravel, of road and path, beneath my plonked feet crunches,
    And P.V.C. flaps loose of its hay-stand.

Bumble bees, tree sparrows and robins bob along the hedgerows,
    Squirrels and hares hop ahead on my route;
And on a weather-wrapped reservoir - glassy, or dulled by blows -
    Glide mute- and whooper-swans, ducks, geese and coot;
Horses, goats, sheep and cattle laze and graze on fields of green -
    Fields they, in turn, feed, helping make hay;
And, above, swifts and herons sometimes grace the aerial scene -
    A scene framed by a moorland chain of grey.

Slugs - some rusty, others pitch-black - slither on a clayey path,
    That slopes sharply beside the reservoir;
And a whitegood on green-grass - a horse trough, once a human bath -
    Amuses me as I view from afar;
As does Peel Monument, atop a distant Holecombe mount -
    By which an uncle and I once took lunch;
Disturbed nettles - brushed in such distraction - make their bulwarks count,
    And a shed-side arbour demands a hunch.

One time, three sheep-dogs determined me lost, and rounded me up;
    Oftentimes, the Metro. tram rattles by;
And, sometimes, a horse will urge me make handy a grassy cup,
    Or nudge for a scratch down its back and thigh;
On cooler mornings, the dew on grasses soaks my joggers through,
    But beautifies clumps of whimsy grass-heads;
And, already proceeding on his routine of chores to do,
    A farmer strong-hoses out the cowsheds.

Caravan-people leave their grouping to walk the well-worn track,
    And milk- and mail-vans squeeze tightly by;
Antique farm-machines rust away in a grassed ramshackle-stack,
    And pigeons startle from their grassy lie;                                                
In sun, fishing-people and bathers dot the reservoir's shore,
    And, in shade, ferns the sides of path and stream;
Near gates, manure fills the air and makes stepping a chore,
    But elsewhere the views are a poet's dream.

Magpies, near horses, bop around - perhaps for aroused worms;
    Laburnums sprung yellow, and hawthorns white,
Pleasingly, in nature, border the fields of farming-firms,
    And help enclose this Radcliffe rural site;
Plus, as I meander home from a day's factory toil,
    The sun, when it sets in a clear sky,
Forms a large amber ball, behind a converted cotton-mill -
    Signalling another day almost by.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 17 Jun 09 - 05:33 AM

(Yesterday, the national media in England were celebrating the fact that, via gambling on a lottery, one individual now has 100s of times more wealth than his neighbours - REVOLTING!)

Poem 138 of 230: AN OPIUM

National Lottery passes -
    Slight chances to be richer,
    With lots more than thy neighbour,
    Gained without any labour -
    Keep the system in favour:
An opium of the masses.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 18 Jun 09 - 04:22 AM

Poem 105 of 230: GLOBAL REGULATIONISM

No income-scale would be unjust -
    It's a matter of degree;
And, to have less inequality,
    Regulations are a must.

For, in Millennium's status quo,
    The pay-gaps for human work,
And what's gotten simply as a perk,
    Are wrong - inhumanely so.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 19 Jun 09 - 06:09 AM

Poem 159 of 230: WINDERMERE - SUMMER 2001

Some thirteen years from my first visit
    (Then, dropped from hitching, just near;
This time, by train and a downhill walk),
    I arrived at Windermere:

On the ferry Miss Cumbria Three,
    A chill-out trip to Ambleside -
Viewing the trees, the farms, the fells,
    And the more sporty ways to ride.

Once there, an uphill walk through the shops
    Led to a leaf, rock and root track,
With a stalactite-like mossy falls,
    And a bridge - starting the way back.

Track-side, gripping the ghyll, ancient woods
    Shaded what was a sunny day,
And the falling stream gave sound strongly -
    Calming the soul a further way.

Then home - again charmed by the thin-stone
    Minimum-mortar kept buildings,
The surrounds of England's largest lake,
    And movie train-window viewings.

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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 20 Jun 09 - 09:04 AM

Poem 228 of 230: REPATRIATING

I only sunbathe in winter -
    Behind closed glass;
I may need extra quilts at night -
    Warm or sleepless;
But most of my other ways spell -
    Anglicises.

From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 21 Jun 09 - 04:50 AM

Poem 57 of 230: MANCHESTER - A GIST

Sports, large warehouses and merchants are the gist -
    A centre for distribution and trade,
Plus making goods and services for this list;
    Well placed, in these, it seems, the future's laid.

Oh - I should note the entertainment trade,
And that, from fruit and grain, fine foods are made.

From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 22 Jun 09 - 04:53 AM

Poem 229 of 230: JOYS OF LIFE

Leightons, and other great art;
    Plumes of fireworks at night;
The vivid reds of sunrise -
    Repeated at day's last light.

The beats through us of a drum;
    Winter's sun felt through closed glass;
Handing in the last exam;
    Awakenings – alarmless!

The ball, off thee, whacks their net;
    When, to palms, leather has stuck;
Orange juice during half-time;
    A warm bath to wash the muck.

Viewing set-over cricket;
    A golf ball, for once, well struck;
Viewing velodrome cycling;
    From net-chord, levelling luck!

Sticks, chants, didgeridoo,
    Haunting harps, and all bagpipes;
Clog, flamenco, tamure,
    Hula, and other dance types.

Out, by a cast, being told;
    In - taking tea and T.V.;
Highland views that command rest;
    The buildings of Italy.

Thrifty plant-propagation;
    By a wave one's body hit;
Upstream of camp - with paddle;
    By a fire - strongly lit.

Forest spent-leaves under foot;
    Tasting a host-nation's fare;
Alcedo atthis at work;
    Just-bills being brought to bear.

Allegros when feeling low;
    An andante to wind down;
Spoken French and chorused song;
    The quiet when out of town.

A stroll through a kept garden,
    Before Sunday's roast dinner;
A pub game, drink and meal;
    One's team a comeback winner.

From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
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Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: Jack Blandiver
Date: 22 Jun 09 - 05:31 AM

Sticks, chants, didgeridoo,
    Haunting harps, and all bagpipes;
Clog, flamenco, tamure,
    Hula, and other dance types.

I've known nights like that too; in fact at one of the old Scoraig Festivals back in the 80s I'm sure we had that very line-up - didg, clarsach and bagpipes (plus crwth) playing up a Feral Folk storm as the dancers were dancing every dance ever danced...

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: WalkaboutsVerse
Date: 22 Jun 09 - 09:50 AM

That's not quite what I meant, S., but nice to have a visitor down here under! I was just thinking about Durham as it happens...are we 2 going to leave our instruments in the bag for the evening singaround this year - so that it's 100% unaccompanied singing..?

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: Jack Blandiver
Date: 22 Jun 09 - 11:12 AM

Better than that, WAV - Rachel will be fielding her banjo for the first time at the DFP, thus honouring the Big Man's memory, inspiration & example with a few transatlantic ditties; so chances are you'll be getting the banjo & Black Sea Fiddle in one accord and vocal harmonies to match as I get my head around such alt-country stylings. Check the first two Here...

That said, I've half a mind to sing Child #51 unaccompanied in the afternoon ballad session for auld lang syne...

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: s&r
Date: 22 Jun 09 - 11:40 AM

Checked on Child No 51 for curiosity Sean. Bearing the content in mind, the adjacent Google entry for Child 51 is:

"CHILD 51 takes students through the basic roles of parenting, including practical knowledge for discipline; teaching values; communicating with children; and creating a nurturing, stress-free home environment."

Says it all.

Stu

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: Jack Blandiver
Date: 22 Jun 09 - 11:53 AM

Love it!

Subject: RE: BS: WalkaboutsVerse Anew
From: Jack Blandiver
Date: 22 Jun 09 - 03:13 PM

300!