Another poem based on a famous verse, treated with total disrespect. Do let me know what you think
Foreign Is Quite Ghastly
(Home Thoughts, From Abroad, Robert Browning)
Oh to be in England
Rather than ‘abroad’
To say travel broadens the mind
Is really quite absurd.
It’s dusty here, and full of smells
Against which the most robust rebels
And, God, the din the locals make
And don’t get me on what they boil and bake.
I’ll gift a kidney if you’ll just allow
Me back to England. Now!
The birds they have hereabouts
Have beady eyes and beaks of steel
And I really must confess my doubts:
These evil beasts cannot be real?
Back home in dear old Blighty
Our fluff balls are cute and flighty
And fill my soul with careless rapture.
Hearts should sing, they shouldn’t rupture.
I’ve got my ticket, I’m on my way
Back to England’s green gold shores
I’m done with ‘foreign’, outdone my stay
Take me home, to know-all bores
To potholed roads and warm flat beer
Just promise me please: get me outta here!
Ever viewed with an irreverent eye Geoff. I shall never be able to listen to Clifford T. Ward’s Home Thoughts from Abroad without expecting your lyrics to appear.
Hugs
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Thanks Dave. I wonder how far you have to go before you reach ‘abroad’? Sometimes it can be very close, can’t it?
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Having lived in the North East for a number of years before heading west, this could easily be a Geordie lamenting their exile in Sunderland (well apart from the craving for warm flat beer). Excellent stuff, Geoff.
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funny how many versions or ‘abroad’ there are … mind you having fallen foul, at Uni, of the Newcastle, Sunderland, Middlesborough dichotomy, lumping them all together as Geordies, I understand how close ‘foreign’ can be..
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Lol 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
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Poor pack dog – he doesn’t even want to go ……. And truly this sounds like every discontented Pom immigrant who rocked up here in the 60’s and 70’s……….
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Surely no one has visited your divine country and not fallen in love with it… or was it because he then met the locals…?
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Ah the joys of returning home to the familiar although not entirely pastoral. A fun take on a flighty bit of fluff! Again, I prefer yours.
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I detect a certain gratifying bias in your preferences – keep them coming!!
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There’s no place like home. Even with the bores, potholes, and warm beer. 🙂
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all the main attractions. Funny what we think of as ours, they may be rubbish but they’re our rubbish
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The look on the dog says it all! I love traveling but coming home is always wonderful. Great take on the poetry but where is ‘abroad’ in this case?
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ah indeed there are so many versions of ‘abroad’ even close to home…
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Your dog looks quite put out here. 😉 It’s true, no matter how rough, home is the best but you can keep the warm flat beer. Ice cold is the only way to drink it.
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well, my dad drank ale and it wasn’t ever chilled so he’d may be debate that but he’d always appreciate someone who appreciates beer whhowever they took it
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