Can We Talk About Poetry?

Astro Pen

Write now.
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I'm trying to add am mp3 reading of my earlier poem.
This may or may not work
 

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Ian Fortytwo

Five/Seven/Five. Seventeen Syllables.
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The picture from the 300 word, has inspired me to write a poem.

Travelling on a Canal.

The narrow boat motors sedately along,
The thistle and cobweb enmeshed bank,
All so very picturesque and photographic,
Ripples spread evenly from bank to bank.


The chug chug of engines reasonably quiet,
Sheep on one bank, cows on the other,
A rural scene of an age gone by,
Each lock has to be maneuvered manually.


Further along on another bank a fair of old,
Fairground music adding to the atmosphere,
Ducks cross the canal serenely with eloquence,
A cottage pub sits near enticingly.


After a revitalised rest and refreshments,
We travel onwards into unknown territory,
An apple core splashes into the water,
Some children wave from a bridge.


After a few more hours night draws in,
And we snuggle into our sleeping bags,
A restful dreamless sleep engulfs us,
A beautiful dawn beckons another day.
 

Ian Fortytwo

Five/Seven/Five. Seventeen Syllables.
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Joined
Dec 30, 2018
Messages
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Location
Somewhere on this mortal coil.
A New Year Brings Hope.

Bong! Midnight is almost here.
Bong! Fireworks crackling about.
Bong! Let's hope the new one is better.
Bong! Singing Auld Lang Syne.
Bong! Peace, calm and harmony in the world.
Bong! Shake hands with a stranger.
Bong! More fireworks bang and crack.
Bong! Let the news be more cheering.
Bong! Let's drink more carefully.
Bong! Poetry flow freely from our pens.
Bong! Let the whole world rejoice together.
Bong! Let friends and family know that you care.

Happy New Year everybody
Let us sparkle through the year.
 

Ian Fortytwo

Five/Seven/Five. Seventeen Syllables.
Supporter
Joined
Dec 30, 2018
Messages
1,026
Location
Somewhere on this mortal coil.
A Triplet of Limericks.

There was an old man who lived on the moon,
He thought he was a silly old spoon,
He bought a tie,
Had a great sigh,
But people knew he was looney buffoon.


An old man bought a didgeridoo,
He wanted to lure a kangaroo,
It hopped,
And stopped,
Because both wanted a poo.


There was an old man who lived on a barge,
Who lived often on bread, jam and marge,
The colour was pink,
Yet it caused a stink,
The merry old man is still at large.
 

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