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Uncle Albert/admiral Halsey

Were so sorry uncle albert
Were so sorry if we caused you any pain
Were so sorry uncle albert
But theres no one left at home
And I believe Im gonna rain
Were so sorry but we havent heard a thing all day
Were so sorry uncle albert
But if anything should happen well be sure to give a ring
Were so sorry uncle albert
But we havent done a bloody thing all day
Were so sorry uncle albert
But the kettles on the boil and were so easily called away
Hand across the water (water)
Heads across the sky
Hand across the water (water)
Heads across the sky
Admiral halsey notified me
He had to have a berth or he couldnt get to sea
I had another look and I had a cup of tea and butter pie
(the butter wouldnt melt so I put it in the pie)

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song performed by Paul McCartney
Added by Lucian Velea
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Grains

What's the relationship
between a grain of rice
and its stalk or the stem of the
rice plants? The corelation between
the two is in other words
the source and the results
that will reap what the source
had told it to produce
in the beginning when
the source let the stem out
in a sprout form
the weed that many farmers had to toil
in hot sunny days to replant
in another rice field with some water
underneath. Water! Yes.
It's the source for life along with
the source that is planted under the ground
where the water was filled in with.
'I am going to see if the rice pad is safe
from this night storm.' In my bed side

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poem by Sangnam Nam
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The Stealing Of The Mare - I

In the name of God the Merciful, the Compassionate! He who narrateth this tale is Abu Obeyd, and he saith:
When I took note and perceived that the souls of men were in pleasure to hear good stories, and that their ears were comforted and that they made good cheer in the listening, then called I to mind the tale of the Agheyli Jaber and his mare, and of all that befell him and his people. For this is a story of wonderful adventure and marvellous stratagems, and a tale which when one heareth he desireth to have it evermore in remembrance as a delight tasted once by him and not forgotten.
And the telling of it is this:
The Emir Abu Zeyd the Helali Salameh was sitting one morning in his tent with the Arabs of the Beni Helal and the Lords of the tribe. And lo, there appeared before them in the desert the figure of one wandering to and fro alone. And this was Ghanimeh. And the Emir Abu Zeyd said to his slave Abul Komsan, ``Go forth thou, and read me the errand of this fair Lady and bring me word again.'' And Abul Komsan went forth as he was bidden, and presently returned to them with a smiling countenance, and he said, ``O my Lord, there is the best of news for thee, for this is one that hath come a guest to thee, and she desireth something of thee, for fate hath oppressed her and troubles sore are on her head. And she hath told me all her story and the reason of her coming, and that it is from her great sorrow of mind; for she had once an husband, and his name was Dagher abul Jud, a great one of the Arabs. And to them was born a son named Amer ibn el Keram, and the boy's uncle's name was En Naaman. And when the father died, then the uncle possessed himself of all the inheritance, and he drove forth the widow from the tribe; and he hath kept the boy as a herder of his camels; and this for seven years. And Ghanimeh all that time was in longing for her son. But at the end of the seventh year she returned to seek the boy. Then Naaman struck her and drove her forth. And Amer, too, the boy, his nephew, is in trouble, for Naaman will not now yield to the boy that he should marry his daughter, though she was promised to him, and he hath betrothed her to another. And when Amer begged him for the girl (for the great ones of the tribe pitied the boy, and there had interceded for him fifty--and--five of the princes), he answered, `Nay, that may not be, not though in denying it I should taste of the cup of evil things. But, if he be truly desirous of the girl and would share all things with me in my good fortune, then let him bring me the mare of the Agheyli Jaber,--and the warriors be witness of my word thereto.' But when the men of the tribe heard this talk, they said to one another: `There is none able to do this thing but only Abu Zeyd.' And thus hath this lady come to thee. And I entreat thee, my lord, look into her business and do for her what is needful.''
And when Abu Zeyd heard this word of his slave Abul Komsan he rejoiced exceedingly, and his heart waxed big within him, and he threw his cloak as a gift to Abul Komsan, and he bade him go to the Lady Ghanimeh and treat her with all honour, for, ``I needs,'' said he, ``must see to her affairs and quiet her mind.'' So Abul Komsan returned to her, and he built for her a tent, and did all that was needed. And Abu Zeyd bade him attend upon her and bring her dresses of honour and all things meet for her service.
Then began the Narrator to sing:

Saith the hero Abu Zeyd the Helali Salameh:
(Woe is me, my heart is a fire, a fire that burneth!)
On a Friday morning once, I sat with three companions,
I in my tent, the fourth of four, with the sons of Amer.
Sudden I raised my eyes and gazed at the breadth of the desert,
Searching the void afar, the empty hills and the valleys;
Lo, in the midmost waste a form, where the rainways sundered,
Wandering uncertain round in doubt, with steps of a stranger.
Turned I to Abul Komsan, my slave, and straightway I bade him,
``Ho, thou master of signs, expound to us this new comer.''
Abul Komsan arose and went, and anon returning,
``Fortune fair,'' said he, ``I bring and a noble token.
O my Lord Abu Zeyd,'' he cried, and his lips were smiling,

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poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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My Uncle is a Soldier

My uncle is a soldier
a soldier of the U.S. Navy Seabees
he helps people day in and day out
to reach their right to be free
My uncle is a soldier
in a poor foreign land
he helps people's villages
with no guns but the strength of his hands
My uncle is a soldier
but much more than that to me
My uncle is a soldier
and a hero to our family

poem by Krystian Huizar
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A Bond Made In Heaven

we have a unique bond,
strengthened over a period of time,
over four years to be exact.
a gentleman,
an uncle in a million.
a great poet,
a friend,
and an advisor,
I am truly blessed
with the best uncle anyone could wish for
a man of compassion
for whom I have great respect
my uncle dearest
and I his niece
never a word out of place
thank you Uncle dearest
for keeping me in prayers
and always wishing for me the best

poem by Persian Khushi
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Uncle’s Car Key

A single key in a little bunch
The key to life it is not
So little a key but have this punch
When uncle’s blood is hot.

Some men I know can lend this key
But some are worse to stand
A friend it is that lets me be
But uncle’s spite must land

This key to Golf I turned upwards
And got rains of hot words
My uncle raved and ranted as hell
In words thoughtful as they tell

This his point was stressed again
As the old year passed with glee
My resolution strong and comes like train
To avoid uncle’s car key

poem by Tonimario Onyedika Oboshi
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You Were The First That I Wanted

Mommy,
I don't like the way that man is looking at us.

'Wave to him, baby...
That's your daddy.'

But I thought you said,
Uncle Barry was my daddy.

'Uncle Barry is your sister's daddy.'

Then 'who' is Uncle Moe, mommy?

'Uncle Moe, ?
Is my daddy, baby.'

But wouldn't that make him,
My grandfather?
That's what you told Billy!

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Uncle Lenny

There is an Italian who lives in New York City,
he is a sweetheart, he thinks I’m pretty.
He came down to see me and took me out to eat,
we talked of a stalker who lives on his street.
Yes, he is handsome for his age,
stalker lady goes through his mail reading one page.
Now Uncle Lenny has seen it all,
in NYC taxi cab he drove tourists with alot of gall.
Yes, Uncle Lenny drove a NYC taxi cab,
A safe driver award plaque he does have.
Now we went to Tampa and I heard some ghosts,
He said he didn’t hear any for his ears are toast.
He’s sweetheart who thinks of me,
He left surprises in my luggage for me to keep.
Now Uncle Lenny still can drive,
He is quick and has a sharp keen eye.
Thanks Uncle Lenny for the happy memories,
it was fun and very interesting!

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poem by Christina Sunrise
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Uncle Lenny

There is an Italian who lives in New York City,
he is a sweetheart, he thinks I'm pretty.
He came down to see me and took me out to eat,
we talked of a stalker who lives on his street.
Yes, he is handsome for his age,
stalker lady goes through his mail reading one page.
Now Uncle Lenny has seen it all,
in NYC taxi cab he drove tourists with alot of gall.
Yes, Uncle Lenny drove a NYC taxi cab,
A safe driver award plaque he does have.
Now we went to Tampa and I heard some ghosts,
He said he didn't hear any for his ears are toast.
He's sweetheart who thinks of me,
He left surprises in my luggage for me to keep.
Now Uncle Lenny still can drive,
He is quick and has a sharp keen eye.
Thanks Uncle Lenny for the happy memories,
it was fun and very interesting!

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poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Like Horny Men

Don’t let the chickens out
Uncle said

close the gate
we don’t want

the foxes getting in
and tearing them

to pieces
because they will you know

they’ll go in for the kill
but maybe only go off

with one
and you stared

at the chickens
running around

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poem by Terry Collett
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