Any Poets?

[GoldenRivet]

Here is a sampling of my modest prose


The Hero's Place

There are days where the fight is hasty and done,
When victory is swiftly and speedily won.

There are days where the fight drags on through the night,
Thunderous flashes drowned out by first light

There are days when the fight inspires us within,
To conquer our demons and vanquish our sin.

There are days when the fight blocks the sun from the sky,
And shining hope hides from the strongest man's eyes.

There are days when the fight falls quiet by our sword,
As we strike down each foe in the enemy horde.

There are days when the fight knocks us off of our feet,
and routes us abaft in hurried retreat

There are days when the fight leaves our armor blood stained...
... but inside, teeth gritting, the hero remains.

He'll lift up his shield, and shake off the dust.
He'll whisper a prayer to dear Christ, if he must.

And each time he rises, his purpose he'll find;
is to fight those ahead... and to love those behind.


............................

untitled

Sail onward toward the horizon, life
like a tall ship on the seas

The hours are your four great winds
the minutes, just the breeze

turmoil makes for heavy swells
heaving high and diving deep

upheaval causes howling gales
and dark skies they do weep

Happiness, the doldrums wake;
a calm and placid place.

a golden ray of sunshine,
cast on captain's face

constellations guide your course
from another worldly realm

but their guidance is only of use
if its you who minds the helm!

Fate an able seaman may be
but the helmsman it is thee

and the ship will only hold it's course
if you guide with thought and deed

Hit the swells ahead on!
Shout above the wind!

hold the helm ever strong!
Your keel it cannot bend!

Face the storms that lie ahead!
conviction defines thy face!

Your ship will never falter!
No gale can slow her pace!

The gusts become a whisper
the rain a gentle spray

Your ship holds right its timber
your will has won the day

Dusk blood red across the sky
the storm has passed for thee

respite brings satisfaction
your reward a tranquil sea

Dont steer round the swirling gales
steer through them and you'll see

You will emerge much stronger
and a better captain be

Here's one I posted on the IL-2 BoS forum a few years back.

Little Willy Messerschmitt

Little Willy Messerschmitt,
had a plan, and worked on it.

Made a sketch,
then thought a bit.

Thought some more,
and rubbed his jaw.

Thought again,
then off he tore.

"Paper, pencils!" (sharpened fine...)
"I must start my new design".

"Needs a number...
One oh nine!"


Little Willy Messerschmitt,
set his men to building it.

Skinny wings
and tight cockpit.

Scrounged an engine -
from Rolls-Royce!

"T'will do for now,
but not first choice!"

"JUnkers Jumo, Daimler Benz -
best to get them from your friends!"

'Till prototype was looking fine,
'was the Bee eff One oh nine.



Little Willy smiled with glee -
Herman Goering came to see!

Herman stood all smug and beaming,
looking at the plane all gleaming.

Herman peeked below the wings,
kicked the wheels, and suchlike things.

Herman went to phone the Feurher
"Praise and medals, nothing surer!"

Soon came Furher, in Mercedes
along the streets all lined with ladies,

throwing roses, singing praises,
(Goebbels was providing wages...)

"Come on Herman get inside,
take the fighter for a ride".

Herman could have looked much surer
but came the order from the Furher...

Herman huffed and puffed and panted
and up upon the wing he mounted

Up he went into cockpit
struggled, wriggled just a bit,

soon apparent, problem hit,
Herman Goering wouldn't fit!

The Furher cracked a rare sly grin,
Herman stuck - half out, half in!

Little Willy thought a bit,
how Herman from the tight cockpit,

could be induced to make his exit,
with dignity, so he can't wreck it.

Dignity was though soon forgotten
Herman then in lard was sodden

Soap and oil was all applied,
'till from the cockpit he did slide.

The Furher left in his Mercedes,
Buxom women singing praises

Herman left in dressing gown,
-one he'd loaned from Eva Braun.

Little Willy Messerschmitt
thought at this and grinned a bit

Then his desktop lamp he lit
Chewed his pencil, sharpened it,

Herman gone, can't take the credit,
interfere or elsewise wreck it.

Little Willy worked away
through dark until Sun's first ray,

Worked again all through the night
"Now I've got it looking right"

It's my design, and only mine,
My pretty Bee eff One Oh Nine!.

© Andrew West 2013. All rights reserved.

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Another one, previously posted on the RoF forum.

Tom Sopwith and the carpenters (with apologies to Lewis Carroll)


"The time has come", Tom Sopwith said,
"To talk of many things:
Of ribs and struts and bracing wires,
And planes with triple wings.
To twist and turn, and loop and climb
and run around in rings".


"A rotary is what we need,
behind, a Vickers gun:
two wheels, a prop,
And suchlike 'till it's done.
We'll send it up into the clouds
To perforate the Hun".


Tom Sopwith set his men to work,
upon his new contraption
They hammered, sawed and glued and screwed
till driven to distraction,
then broke for tea, and biscuits (three!),
continued with the lamps on.


All through the night (the Moon was bright)
They worked on Tom's invention
Of canvas, wood, of cloth and dope
And wires all tight with tension
assembled all from wheels to tail
And then they fixed the wings on.


The pilot sat inside the Tripe
behind the Vickers gun
they spun the prop, and off he shot
to climb up to the sun
to turn and loop, and wheel about
and perforate the Hun.


The German in his Albatross
was clueless what was coming
The triplane pounced, then wheeled right round
and went on with its gunning
The Huns below, all saw the show,
Astonished at such cunning.


So off they went, all giving vent,
to see their best constuctor
With gutteral curse, and language worse,
they barked out urgent order
To build and fly, as their reply
A triple-winged destructor.


"Tis time", Anthony Fokker said
"To talk of many things
Of ribs and struts (no bracing wires!)
And planes with triple wings.
To twist and turn, and loop and climb
and run around in rings…"


© Andrew West 2012. All rights reserved.

[GoldenRivet]

love it

[Sailor Steve]

That's some good stuff there, both of you.

[THE_MASK]

The dark pond at night
The small silver fish reflecting in the moonlight
The small boy in the boat
Such dreams are dreamed
On the water I will float .

[Jimbuna]

The boy stood on the burning deck
His heart was all a quiver
He gave a cough, his leg fell off
And floated down the river

[Garion]

On a hill there stood a coo.
It must be awa,
as it's no there noo.


Cheers
Gary

[Tango589]

“The Chaos” by Gerard Nolst Trenité, written nearly 100 years ago in 1922, designed to demonstrate the irregularity of English spelling and pronunciation.

Dearest creature in creation,
Study English pronunciation.
I will teach you in my verse
Sounds like corpse, corps, horse, and worse.
I will keep you, Suzy, busy,
Make your head with heat grow dizzy.
Tear in eye, your dress will tear.
So shall I! Oh hear my prayer.
Just compare heart, beard, and heard,
Dies and diet, lord and word,
Sword and sward, retain and Britain.
(Mind the latter, how it’s written.)
Now I surely will not plague you
With such words as plaque and ague.
But be careful how you speak:
Say break and steak, but bleak and streak;
Cloven, oven, how and low,
Script, receipt, show, poem, and toe.
Hear me say, devoid of trickery,
Daughter, laughter, and Terpsichore,
Typhoid, measles, topsails, aisles,
Exiles, similes, and reviles;
Scholar, vicar, and cigar,
Solar, mica, war and far;
One, anemone, Balmoral,
Kitchen, lichen, laundry, laurel;
Gertrude, German, wind and mind,
Scene, Melpomene, mankind.
Billet does not rhyme with ballet,
Bouquet, wallet, mallet, chalet.
Blood and flood are not like food,
Nor is mould like should and would.
Viscous, viscount, load and broad,
Toward, to forward, to reward.
And your pronunciation’s OK
When you correctly say croquet,
Rounded, wounded, grieve and sieve,
Friend and fiend, alive and live.
Ivy, privy, famous; clamour
And enamour rhyme with hammer.
River, rival, tomb, bomb, comb,
Doll and roll and some and home.
Stranger does not rhyme with anger,
Neither does devour with clangour.
Souls but foul, haunt but aunt,
Font, front, wont, want, grand, and grant,
Shoes, goes, does. Now first say finger,
And then singer, ginger, linger,
Real, zeal, mauve, gauze, gouge and gauge,
Marriage, foliage, mirage, and age.
Query does not rhyme with very,
Nor does fury sound like bury.
Dost, lost, post and doth, cloth, loth.
Job, nob, bosom, transom, oath.
Though the differences seem little,
We say actual but victual.
Refer does not rhyme with deafer.
Fe0ffer does, and zephyr, heifer.
Mint, pint, senate and sedate;
Dull, bull, and George ate late.
Scenic, Arabic, Pacific,
Science, conscience, scientific.
Liberty, library, heave and heaven,
Rachel, ache, moustache, eleven.
We say hallowed, but allowed,
People, leopard, towed, but vowed.
Mark the differences, moreover,
Between mover, cover, clover;
Leeches, breeches, wise, precise,
Chalice, but police and lice;
Camel, constable, unstable,
Principle, disciple, label.
Petal, panel, and canal,
Wait, surprise, plait, promise, pal.
Worm and storm, chaise, chaos, chair,
Senator, spectator, mayor.
Tour, but our and succour, four.
Gas, alas, and Arkansas.
Sea, idea, Korea, area,
Psalm, Maria, but malaria.
Youth, south, southern, cleanse and clean.
Doctrine, turpentine, marine.
Compare alien with Italian,
Dandelion and battalion.
Sally with ally, yea, ye,
Eye, I, ay, aye, whey, and key.
Say aver, but ever, fever,
Neither, leisure, skein, deceiver.
Heron, granary, canary.
Crevice and device and aerie.
Face, but preface, not efface.
Phlegm, phlegmatic, ass, glass, bass.
Large, but target, gin, give, verging,
Ought, out, joust and scour, scourging.
Ear, but earn and wear and tear
Do not rhyme with here but ere.
Seven is right, but so is even,
Hyphen, roughen, nephew Stephen,
Monkey, donkey, Turk and jerk,
Ask, grasp, wasp, and cork and work.
Pronunciation (think of Psyche!)
Is a paling stout and spikey?
Won’t it make you lose your wits,
Writing groats and saying grits?
It’s a dark abyss or tunnel:
Strewn with stones, stowed, solace, gunwale,
Islington and Isle of Wight,
Housewife, verdict and indict.
Finally, which rhymes with enough,
Though, through, plough, or dough, or cough?
Hiccough has the sound of cup.
My advice is to give up!!!

[Jimbuna]

I often scribble in the sand
The words I find so hard to say
And hope the wind will come along
And blow them all your way.