An Inkling of Poetry: The Sip

A Cockatoo went and once Told a Bird friend of his In no uncertain terms How it is He would like a bite off the nuts This Bird friend was Feasting on For a morsel of tasty nuts He had offered a night's rest In his own nest That he was ready to brave The Cold of the night Whilst the Lady Bird snoozed Was a situation too Hard to be true Or in its entirety true So the Bird friend tweeted That this Cockatoo should Let her stay in on the nest First before taking the bite He had only just requested Now a little hunger Can make one take bad decisions Can it not Well it possibly can You only need to take One last long look At your favourite flavours To jump at the earliest Opportunity of an invite to sup This the Cockatoo did A nimble and avid Snatch at the nut offered By the base of the nest Built on a strong and steady Branch mid way up the tree But the custom of the exchange Would not stand time's test For before long the Cockatoo ...

Back in the Heart of XVIII Greenspolis A few months after Winter in the Greens fell A fair yellowish brown damsel in the mid summer clime Out and about before the silence of the twelve chimes Spoke of a yesteryear when A tragic inferno an Hour and half After mid-night Ben Struck Burnt a lived in Cenotaph In which families friends and kinship Converged to pass times of recreation Times of exertion times of Rest Times lathering eating times at the Hearth In which sadly three scores and a dozen Died and left us sorry denizens Are we Truely Who is.....would we Who is to say that one cannot mourn enough For a lost loved one.

For the love of God we need not do more than enough For God our help is up above in the heavenly Time itself is Omniscient But God owns Time Where were you when God Began And where was the World after the Lord And before the first Man.

Erg. A chatter of the blue bird A glow of the erg A thousand guineas to spend A faraway kite from Kent A way through the Mountainous Wake An Ambiance of comfort's sake A pedagogue in Luminus A study away from Tumulus A favour of light heartedness An honour nevertheless That he might make way O' ye To know the ways of the Sagely.

An Inkling of Poetry: The Sip The souls who never sleep The same men who each night creep May all same day convene Where less mortals contravene For want of More draughts to Sip But it shall not be told For such night as bleak and cold As this sad communion Would leave no one's true Champion A recourse To be less bold Indeed sip the cauldron It is choice wine they let on The hearty cheers ring out Alike men in a dug out A drinking Away head on