One of the most loved and enduring rituals in UK life is my world-famous round-up of poems, verses, doggerel and crap that I've put on this seething pile of old rubbish over the last 100 posts. But I'd feel bad if any of you missed one. So, being a twizzle-headed twerp I'm going to do it again .... here they are ... This one's from post 528 ..... Eve Slane had the UK's smallest " list" ,and I wrote a little article about her ...read on ......... After that thing I wrote about Eve Slane, I got a email from a reader (!)( Bill) to tell me that not only did he know her well, but also that she died just a few weeks ago at the age of 72 .... by which time her UK list had gone up to 27 ! It was only 2 posts ago (526) that I wrote about her extraordinary life I thought I had to commemorate her in some way .... so here we go ... So, Farewell then Eve Slane ! A life punctuated by birds. But very few compared to Lee Evans and his ilk. Anyway ... I'm glad you did that modest "twitch" just two doors up even though you dipped out. And now you've dipped out for good. Keith's mum assures me you will "get" that Nuthatch up there. Bill told me you always wanted a stair lift. So I hope you had a stairway to heaven ... (In the style of) E.J. Thribb, 17½ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This very short one is from post 539 .... I had just spotted my first "proper" Carrion Crow in N. Ireland, on the beach at Groomsport ....... The Carrion Crow's now on my Irish List For 40 years it has been sorely missed The ground it stood on I would have keenly kissed Had it not been quite probable that on it 100's of holidaymakers had pissed ! Or maybe worse. Here ends this verse. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ These next two were written the day after Doris Jobson was "elected" to be our new " Prime Sinister" and I was feeling v. duff. Here's the first one ... So! Farewell then ..... Theresa May. You should have been a headmistress at a minor girl's academy in Deepest Dorchester. I'm sure you would have had a rota for the 6th form to replenish the bird feeders. But now we have Doris ! [His real name is not Boris. So I have thought one up myself.] The word PRAT somehow seems inadequate as does he ... in spades. And boy is he busy digging. Let's all hope and pray that it will be his own grave and not ours. ( In the style of E.J.Thribb, 17¼) ( Doris, by the way, is the name of a Sea Slug ... how wonderful !) This next bit is in the "style" of ME ... it's the intro to the song I chose to finish the article .... which was " It's the end of the world as we know it" by REM ... This seemed to be suitable, the right sort of song and totally singable so please sing along if and when our country's going down the pan we know who's the guilty man he's amazingly like that Donald Lump they both could do with a rocket up the rump but people seem to like those heaps of shit but they might find themselves eating it when the money runs out and pound's worth zero ..... maybe they're the modern version of that Emperor Nero. This song ,in the circs, is astonishingly cheerful so while there's time, you should get an earful ! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This is from post 554 .... it's my "gentle parody" of a famous poem... and it has "questions" at the end like you used to get at school...... I must go down to the sea again, to spot a Skua or Diver, And all I ask is an onshore wind, for that I'd pay a fiver, for a chance of a tick, and the Phalarope's song and the white of a distant wave breaking, with no sign of mist on the briny's face, and the rivals I'll be overtaking ! I must go down to the sea again, for the thrill of the incoming tide And the wild call, and the clear call, of a Gannet on the glide, And all I ask, is an Ivory Gull, its white wings flying, And a close-in Kumlien's gliding by, my first after years of trying ! I must go down to the sea again,for the vagrant skimming by and the Tern's way, and the Shearwater's way, for me alone to spy, And all I ask is a merry yarn about someone who's dipped a mega, and the flung spume, and the blowing spray that's made me such a jammy beggar ! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Well, 'tis question time ..... as promised. Don't try to write on both sides of your paper at once. [a] What's the difference between a "gentle parody" and " taking the piss" ? [b] Which category would you put my effort in ? [a] Cathartic [b] Cynical [c] Cyclical [d Clinical [e] Chronic [f] Caustic [g] Cack [c] What was the "original" ? [d] And who wrote it ? [e] Is mine "better" than his ? [a] Yes [b] Certainly [c] Obviously. [d] No [f] Why ? [g] Why not ? [h] Are you going to "do" something similar ? [i] And then send it to me at [email protected] [j] And if not, why not ? I have to admit. I was rather pleased with that one.... ................. I'm a big-headed old Hector ! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ These two are from post 538 I think ..... and the second bit is my brilliant re-working of a Shakespearian sonnet ! Get your cultural hat on .... I thought I ought to venture into verse once more .... let's face it I couldn't get much worse ! So .. a soppy sonnet I will try. If ancient Shakespeare did it Why not I ? ( It's actually turned out a bit dystopian so maybe t'would be suitable for the Guardian ?) ........................................................................................................................ I'm following in Shakespeare's footsteps here with this fair sonnet, filled with birds so dear like the fair gannet, garganey and grouse ( how oft can they be seen circling the house ?) But turn I must to much more pressing themes.. those birds that I keep seeing in my dreams so oft forgotten e'en before I wake. ( Was one of them perhaps a kittiwake ?) I think so ... but mistaken I could be t'was far away, far far across the sea amidst the towering waves and fearsome skies. ( should I have eaten all those ven'son pies ?) These rambling thoughts do so pervade my noddle I think, mayhap, I off this world should toddle. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ And this load of limericks etc is from #508 ....... Being at the seaside is a great stimulus for the "poetic muse" that us aesthetes like to think we've got ....and two of them are true... so here's a few wot I wrote in between not seeing any Black-headed Gulls ..... and I'm going to give them all Nifty Titles ! ... SEVEN SERENDIPITOUS SONGS ( fancy title too ) [1] Crypticity There was a young man from Dundee Who thought he had found a Thick-knee, a.k.a the Stone-Curlew which is tricky to view 'cos its plumage is cryptic, you see ! ( or rather, you don't see ) [2] Further Horizons ... A young lady who lived in Bombay Always walked around town with a Jay that sat on her head and occasionally said " I can see so much further this way !" [3] Stanley's Knife There was a young birder called Stanley Who was worried that birding ain't manly. So he wore hob-nailed boots, and sharp-looking suits, and carried a knife ( also Stanley). [4] Alice in Sunderland Alice, who had bought new binoculars first used them to look at some Fulmars but after all that she faced up to the fact there's no more birds that rhyme with her oculars. [5] Crests and Crusts A right bonny bird is the Hoopoe And it only eats dry crusts and cat-poo they're fine and nutritious and really delicious and keep his crest tickety-boo ! [6] Evans Above ! I once spent a hot afternoon with Lee Evans ...both hoping that soon a rare bird would appear but it didn't, and I fear that he'll blame me for it, the loon. [7] The Sense of an Ending..... Lots of bird names begin with a B like the Black-headed gull, as you see but to end with a B that's a true rarity but there's two types of Carib ( not 3). As far as I can find, there's no other bird ending with a B .... surely I must have overlooked something. The bigger question is, are there any Bees which end in with a B ? Now there's a thought. Is there a Jay ending in J ? Is there a sea ending in C .... yes. Is there a Pea ending in P ? Is there a tree ending in T? ..yes. Enough, enough Of this weary stough It's much too tough But clever though. So I'll sit on a bough And watch a cough. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This next one is from post 578 ... having reminisced about past rarities etc, I felt a bit sad that I'm not in the first flush of youth ..... .. that was when I were "young" and "keen" but now I'm just an old has-been my knees no longer fit for purpose my brain more like a 3-ring circus! and no doubt soon I'll be decrepit so now's the time to write about it as a warning to you lot out there getting old, it's just not fair. Don't get married ! Don't have kids ! It puts your birding on the skids !! and do all that birding while you can before it all goes down the pan ! As usual, I thank you for your kind attention ! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This rather ridiculous but , I must say, ingenious bit of doggerel appeared on post 580. I did it mainly because it was short, after a whole swathe of long, rambling posts ... The P♥ridge is an easy target one c♥ridge is enough to kill it. especially if it hits the ♥ which is, of course, the ideal p♥. The head's another dodgy p♥ the brain is in there for a st♥ once dead, it's thrown into the c♥ and taken to the superm♥ ! You lure him with a lemon t♥ then with a hefty ♣ you'd clout it and nobody would give a f♥ if you put it in a π and ate it ! You could have a go at Magπs too they perch in πns the whole day through it's quite an ♥ 2 catch 1 I think I'd eat it in a b1 ! In the warmth of hΩ sweet hΩ ....... ... and give a morsel to my garden gnΩ ! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This very short poem from post 583 is actually a song ..you'll find out why right now ... the article was all about how you can avoid getting the dastardly Lyme Disease ... you can't miss the song, it's in BRIGHT RED. Basically.. IF YOU ARE WALKING TROUGH TALL VEGETATION, COVER UP ! Lyme Disease is transmitted via ticks,and those ticks lounge around on bracken etc just waiting for some halfwit with bare legs ( and arms too) to stroll past and then they latch onto you, stick in their Lyme Disease Injection Proboscis and you're stuffed. Lyme disease is often poorly detected, and often far too late as well, and you can easily finish up with it for life .... and it can be seriously debilitating. It horryfrys me when I see " nature lovers" and even professional naturalists strolling through bracken ( other tall plants are available) wearing shorts. If you spot "that sort of thing" I encourage you to sing out loud ... " You are thick, and a dick, you're going to get a tick you'll get the deadly Lyme disease, so put some clothes on quick !" ..that's what I always do. I generally run way sharpish for safety reasons. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This one's from post 586 ..... a rather gloomy one too ... We went to put some new flowers on the family grave yesterday. My parents are both buried there, as will I be sooner or later. At my father's burial, a Treecreeper bustled up a nearby elm. Then we wandered around a bit, what with it not actually raining for the first time in many soggy days, and came across this on a tucked-away obscure gravestone ...... I used to watch the birds, those were the days and years. I listened too, and loved the fleeting phrase of lark and linnet, swift and siskin floating in their sky now terribly invisible from where I lie. As you stand here, look up to see the birds for me whilst I, below, await eternity. BUT ........ I have to admit that I wrote it ! It was a while ago, and I re-found it yesterday ... And thought ... I'll make a little story round it. So I did. The stuff about the visit to the graveyard and the Treecreeper and the birds we saw is all true though. I'll tell you what though.... along with the Welsh word Adref = homewards, I wouldn't mind having that verse on my gravestone. I'll see what the Significant Otter thinks. I think it's about £1 per letter though. That could be a bit of an issue ! I'm sorry I've been a devious and mendacious old Hector ! Mind you, it's nothing new. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This one is from post 590 ...... Here's another of those " E.J. Thribb"-style obituaries ..... Except that I wrote it. It also serves as a "follow-on" to the theme of my previous post. So ! Farewell then Peter Fonda. Kevin's mum has always had a soft spot for him. Unfortunately unreciprocated. She saw Easy Rider I don't know how many times. And so did Kevin. Personally I thought it was a lost opportunity..... All those birds to see. But they just whooshed by regardless in both senses of the word. Listless in both senses of the word as well. Nevertheless I wish him well in the afterlife. But I suspect that there are no motorbikes in heaven. Assuming that maybe possibly perhaps .... that's where he will hang up his helmet for the last and final time. ( Not by E.J.Thribb, but respecting his notional age of 17¼) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Just for a change, here's a dinky "verse" ..... all about a " bird of the day" ...as you'll see in the blurb that goes with it ....
Yesterday's " bird of the day" was a Swift. I saw several yesterday, but one particular one stood out from the rest. That's the thing ... circumstances often make tiny things more memorable. We ( the Significant Otter and me) went up to Lancaster to visit my sister and some of her menagerie, and then us two went up to Wiggly Park, which is our name for Williamson Park, the one whose massive memorial is visible from the M6 as you whoosh by, poking out of the park's numerous trees. We call it that because loads of people get lost what with the maze-like twisty paths and the almost total lack of intervisibiity due to the trees I mentioned earlier. Anyway, we sat on a bench which overlooks the city and I scanned the apparently empty vista spread out below us ..... and then, a Swift loomed into the view. It was really, really high up and really really far away, ploughing its solitary way southwards over Lancaster. Lowering the bins, I couldn't even see it with the naked eye. That made it even more mysterious and noteworthy. So that was the Bird of the Day. because it was Far Away and extremely Altitudinous which increased its Interestingness. I hope you "do" your own "bird of the day." Even if it's sometimes a stoat. Or a Brown Argus. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This one's from post 592 ... Surely, all poems/verses/doggerel should try to be educational/useful in some way. Even being silly is "useful" if it cheers people up for a little while. This one, I hope, does a little bit of all of that...... Troglodytes troglodytes never climbs to the tops of trees it doesn't like to be up high like Polysticta stelleri whilst Ardea cinerea likes to catch a fish for dinner. However, Merops superciliosus, eats bees without the slightest fuss. (Your Charadrius hiaticula likes an over-ripe cucumber.) Streptopelia decaocto flew in from Europe years ago and Hippolais polyglotta makes its nest from terra-cotta. Oriolus oriolus makes hers in an omnibus. (Anas discors, rather neatly uses an old Woman's Weekly.) The wily Larus philadelphia lives a life that's so much healthier eating lots of Otis tarda which she keeps in a fancy larder also stocked with Cinclus cinclus (and Grus's "antigone" and "grus" which some think is ridiculous.) Crex crex is rather keen on seaweed unlike Carduelis chloris it prefers a bowl of linseed and, perhaps, a boiled Doris (which is a sea-slug, rather colourful and like Upupa epops, wonderful.) Your average Zonotrichia is a lifelong nosy parker (like Tringa nebularia but darker.) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ So .... that's another lot "archived" for "ever".
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