In my mini series of poems based on famous first lines I’ve stolen a hymn from Willie Blake, a local resident in East Dulwich back when Peckham was cool and Prime Ministers has problems with Ireland… like now really only without leopard print shoes….
And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England’s mountains green?
Because that would explain why mum can
Not get her beige shag pile clean.
She blamed the dog and had a fit
Which meant she needed her pink pills.
They make her see all kinds of stuff;
An oiled hunk and other thrills.
Give her his spear of burning gold
She’ll put an arrow in his desire,
Poor lamb’ll turn grey and old
And join the boy soprano choir.
Mum can’t stand a muddy rug
Her mop won’t sleep in gnarly hands
Till she’s cleaned Jerusalem
And other grim and grubby lands.
The pictures are from my garden last week
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About TanGental
My name is Geoff Le Pard. Once I was a lawyer; now I am a writer. I've published several books: a four book series following Harry Spittle as he grows from hapless student to hapless partner in a London law firm; four others in different genres; a book of poetry; four anthologies of short fiction; and a memoir of my mother. I have several more in the pipeline.
I have been blogging regularly since 2014, on topic as diverse as: poetry based on famous poems; memories from my life; my garden; my dog; a whole variety of short fiction; my attempts at baking and food; travel and the consequent disasters; theatre, film and book reviews; and the occasional thought piece. Mostly it is whatever takes my fancy.
I avoid politics, mostly, and religion, always. I don't mean to upset anyone but if I do, well, sorry and I suggest you go elsewhere.
These are my thoughts and no one else is to blame. If you want to nab anything I post, please acknowledge where it came from.
Of course being me, I sang it! Lovely pics too 🙂
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Well done. I hope the neighbours approved
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I spluttered when I got to the spear. Fortunately, I hadn’t yet taken a sip of the tea which John has just presented me with. Wonderful garden pictures!
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Thanks. Not really sure what I was thinking then. I do know that mum, as a stalwart of the WI would be horrified
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Lol 😀😀🎉🎉💜
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I sang it too – though not all the way through.
Sweet William would roll in his grave at the sound
of my caterwauling to your heinous round.
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Wonderfully dreadful. I may never be able to read that poem again, much less sing it. Did you know that you can sing Emily Dickinson to the tune for the “Yellow Rose of Texas?” Thought you might enjoy that.
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I Might try when no one is listening. And yes I hope to have subverted the WI with this.
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Haha! Love it, Geoff… found myself singing the words as I read them. And those pictures!!! Your garden is an Eden! And yes, problems with Ireland… and Europe. Why is the rest of the world so awkward? Sigh. To hard border or not to hard border, decisions decisions! At least we have poetry and the beauty of nature to console us. Hugs to you, Geoff!
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Oh dear. It shouldn’t be allowed to make a problem. Goodness we’re all cousins these days. Still at least Ireland has a decent rugby team…
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That is true. If only everyone could just get along.
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sigh.. quite….
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