"dursley" poems
I've been told that change is good;
It keeps you on your toes
So I guess I will try to write a poem about something else
............................................................about someone....else
Until next time,
Mine truly
Jan 4, 2012
Jan 4, 2012 at 11:45 PM UTC
Had we never gone home...
Had we never sung our songs...
Had we never loved to part...
Had we never cried so hard...
Here was i calling out for ye.
They could hear me from Malin to Dursley.
O me heart lost and blind.
Torn and misled through the years.
There in Kilkenny,by the water,
Kind as the hills yet cold as Moher's cliffs was me father.
'where are ye going o lonely rover...'
'had ye never been loved by yer lover...'
Sang he,a song of loss and loneliness...
'o yer eyes painted a thousand pictures of long journey,rolling hills,running streams,and rugged coastlines'
'o how i miss walking on that road down the hill to the sea'
'o ol' Erin,to ye i gave me heart a long time ago with tear'
Feb 24, 2011
Feb 24, 2011 at 7:34 PM UTC
''O your eyes painted a thousand pictures of long journeys, rolling hills, running streams, and rugged coastlines.
O how i miss walking on that road down the hills to the sea''
You used to walk by the river o my handsome rover.
Beautiful and green your eyes looked into mine, barely sober.
My men had all gone home, from Malin to Dursley they called out your name.
You would always find your way, drunk you walked so lame.
These spring leaves, caught by the wind flying as far as the ocean.
Kilkenny, as far as the wind might take you i sang.
I sang my lovely Father's song so sad.
A beautiful man, along the road by the river he used to pad.
I pledged you my only heart
A vow of love to never part
My friend, my heart, my love
I promised you peace and joy
Oct 14, 2010
Oct 14, 2010 at 3:47 AM UTC
Zikketmen Uprise
Sillpy glopin honey drop slowly dripping in a gooey flop.Fropling trolippy skitterbug bleeringly rupoling the door
Dewy molifropinin weterings kladet in holimeter lines as criggol meets the Zikketmen.
But vasping ants jig molky polky on the derbholkpin as if chinnyzilcobble.
Meanwhile the phettering teeblers sang joop, joop, joop and ***** crackle flew over in the feetumleftumground.
The crumbwarblers screamed " hooji folpityquif bollp" but the zikketmen knew it was a lie.
"Who are you ? ", said the phettering teeblers as they oxiety the suggits.
Huge swarms of vasping squiding ants who were oblivious to the drama grigged the blodderpad and swung it violently towards the skitterbugs just as they finished their meal.
" I fooled the zikketmen" said the chief teebler.
But just then ***** crackle landed a heavy blow to the chiefs vast head and dripping masses of joolping green blood poured from his brainincasementholderthingy.
As if by magic zeery eyed cooljinmen had appeared in fighting mood.
Yelping ground slippits burrowed deep in to the sludge pockets and closed their eyes in fear.
Andrew Dursley 2015
Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 6:14 PM UTC