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Henry And Emma. A Poem.

Upon the Model of The Nut-Brown Maid. To Cloe.

Thou, to whose eyes I bend, at whose command
(Though low my voice, though artless be my hand.
I take the sprightly reed, and sing and play,
Careless of what the censuring world may say;
Bright Cloe! object of my constant vow,
Wilt thou a while unbend thy serious brow?
Wilt thou with pleasure hear thy lover's strains,
And with one heavenly smile o'erpay his pains?
No longer shall the Nut-brown Maid be old,
Though since her youth three hundred years have roll'd:
At thy desire she shall again be raised,
And her reviving charms in lasting verse be praised.

No longer man of woman shall complain,
That he may love and not be loved again;
That we in vain the fickle sex pursue,
Who change the constant lover for the new.

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poem by Matthew Prior
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Take Me Home

Theres no place I call height, theres no way in a mean street,
Theres no high, low or medium, theres no little be.
So do your searching, until youre down, then realise, youre on your home ground
(echo off)
Sitting in a white room, dreaming of a life, (emma)
You have got me thinking, what is paradise. (emma)
Should I take an ocean drive, cooling from the sun, (emma)
Silver screen got me thinkin this is how it should be done. (emma)
Take me home, theres no place Id a rather be now, yeah,
Take me home, theres no place Id a rather be now, yeah.
Stand together alone, not knowing who you are, (emma)
Friendly strangely strangely friendly, would you keep me warm? (emma)
Would you keep me warm? you now, you could be your paradise,
Talk and keep me warm (emma), you could have youre own dream life,
Step into your comfort side, comfort side.
Take me home, theres no place Id a rather be now, yeah,
Take me home, theres no place Id a rather be now, yeah.
(echo next 4 lines in background (emma) )
There nobody to take me home, cause Im here, yes where I belong,
Im nearly, cause Im on my way, at my home it will always stay.

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song performed by Geri Halliwell
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The Tale of Emma Chissett - for Dan Dan the Betcha Man

Emma Chissett’s
missed out lunch;
she’s suffering
a credit crunch;

Emma Chissett
checks out who
today is offering
three-for-two;

Emma checks
the cornbeef tins
in those illegal
‘sell by’ bins;

finds ‘eat by’ dates
passed (hard to see..):
mentions this;
and gets them free;

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poem by Michael Shepherd
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A Case Of Edible Underwear (Adult)

This comes with a Public Health Warning
as not suitable for children under the age of twenty 0ne.

“My dear Holmes this case is very puzzling as the young lady in question is not dead.”

“Just a simple case of edible knickers my dear Watson.”

“But how do you know that Holmes? ”

“Elementary dear Watson, elementary. As you can see by the teeth marks on her bum.”

“By Jove! Your right Holmes, I didn’t see that! ”

“And my dear Watson there is also you will notice the chew marks on what is left of the knickers.”

“Who would do some fiendish thing like that? ”

“A rampant lover who loved the chocolate flavour. Do you see dear Watson he has only left the skid marks. We are after someone who loves his chocolate.”

“I see Holmes, but the question remains who is he? ”

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poem by David Harris
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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. The Student's Tale; Emma and Eginhard

When Alcuin taught the sons of Charlemagne,
In the free schools of Aix, how kings should reign,
And with them taught the children of the poor
How subjects should be patient and endure,
He touched the lips of some, as best befit,
With honey from the hives of Holy Writ;
Others intoxicated with the wine
Of ancient history, sweet but less divine;
Some with the wholesome fruits of grammar fed;
Others with mysteries of the stars o'er-head,
That hang suspended in the vaulted sky
Like lamps in some fair palace vast and high.
In sooth, it was a pleasant sight to see
That Saxon monk, with hood and rosary,
With inkhorn at his belt, and pen and book,
And mingled lore and reverence in his look,
Or hear the cloister and the court repeat
The measured footfalls of his sandaled feet,
Or watch him with the pupils of his school,
Gentle of speech, but absolute of rule.

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poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Bumper To Bumper

Ill beep my horn for you, bumper 2 bumper, give way Im coming through,
Id give my heart for you, bumper 2 bumper, give way Im coming through.
Driving through the city, (d)getting nitty gritty,
Looking for a place to go, ( yeah. ) girls are feeling risky, (aah)
Feelin kinda frisky, ( giggle (emma) ) come on baby let me go.
Move over, move over, youre driving me reckless, (emma)
Bumper to give me, alright youre gonna get this, (emma)
Bumper 2 bumper, bumper 2 bumper, I want t drive your body all night
I want a back seat lover, all right.
Dont do that!
Id give my heart for you, bumper 2 bumper,
Give way Im coming through, bumper 2 bumper.
Id give my heart for you, bumper 2 bumper,
Cant take my eyes off you, bumper 2, oh ( bumper. )
Looking but no stopping, ( stopping, (emma) ) only window shopping,
Less youve got some goods to show, dont tell us that youre dirty,
Only being flirty, tops off and down and here we go!
Ohh!
Your lover, your lover, youre driving me reckless, (emma)
Bumper to give me, alright youre gonna get this, (emma)

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song performed by Geri Halliwell
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Canute the Great

I'll tell of Canute, King of England,
A native of Denmark was he,
His hobbies was roving and raiding
And paddling his feet in the sea.

By trade he were what's called a Viking,
Every summer he'd visit our shore,
Help himself to whatever he wanted,
And come back in the autumn for more.

These trips always showed him a profit,
But what stumped him to know was this 'ere...
Where the English folk got all the money,
He came and took off them each year.

After duly considering the matter,
He concluded as how his best course,
Were to have an invasion of England,
And tap the supply at its source.

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poem by Marriott Edgar
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Sherlock Holms

Sometimes i wish i was sherlock holms
so i could wear a wool cap to write poems

then perhaps drink some tea and study my notes
to find the foggy killer who wears black coats

so in the night i would make my rounds
parting the mist with my hounds

with a lantern in hand over cobble stones
following shadows wherever they roam

then pausing to stoke my pipes dark seasoning
wrapped in a tweed coat using deductive reasoning

tell old watson, dear watson my friend
i believe our search is at an end

though in the morgue she lay long dead
watson grabbed the newspaper and read

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poem by Nathan Martin
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Watson at the British Open

The aging champion kissed its stones
and waved to all his fans.
At Swilcan bridge across the burn,
As twilight fast descends.

No claret Jug for Tom this day.
His Open at its end
Just this final hole to play
As twilight fast descends.

Five times past champion and beloved
He'll not play here again.
He'll cross this bridge for one last time
As twilight fast descends.

His ball arcs up into the sky
And settles on the green
Near Swilcan bridge across the burn
As twilight fast descends

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poem by John F. McCullagh
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The Law Is For Protection Of The People

Billy dalton staggered on the sidewalk
Someone said he stumbled and he fell
Six squad cars came screaming to the rescue
Hauled old billy dalton off to jail
cause the law is for protection of the people
Rules are rules and any fool can see
We dont need no drunks like billy dalton
Scarin decent folks like you and me, no siree
Charlie watson wandered like a stranger
Showing he had no means of support
Police man took one look at his pants cuffs
Hustled charlie watson off to court.
cause the law is for protection of the people
Rules are rules and any fool can see
We dont need no bums like charlie watson
Scarin decent folks like you and me, no siree.
Homer lee hunnicut was nothing but a hippy
Walking thru this world without a care
Then one day, six strapping brave policeman
Held down homer lee and cut his hair

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song performed by Kris Kristofferson
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