Malcolm Saunders
French Adventure
Thanks Hilary
Bordelleaux watch out.
Bordelleaux watch out.
Thu, 18 Oct 2007 06:30 pm
Mercie Hilary
I'm sure we'll have a great time - the weather forecast is great!
Bonjour
Paul
I'm sure we'll have a great time - the weather forecast is great!
Bonjour
Paul
Thu, 18 Oct 2007 06:36 pm
Malcolm Saunders
A short factual account of the adventure:
Captain Camel and the Band of Hope
Captain Camel and sweet Alabaster
pedalled for all they were worth.
Twisting tightly the rubber rope
that would take us from the earth.
This rubber band, the band of hope,
twitched and twanged 'til taut.
Joystick hoofed, and a plume of smoke,
My baby be good to us.
Poets quivered into their seats,
tense and pale and fraught.
Shuddering forward at stupid-o-clock
La Manche was hopped with aplomb.
There were actresses abounding
and bishops all about, but the
tall guy is at twelve right now
and the fat girl's right on eight.
We were strong armed round the city
by the sum son Church of Christ.
Past the black burned Jeanne
astride her mighty mount.
Not long into the foreign field
Makin beaucoup de pluie d'or
I'm struck with Bury Beret
like a spanner in the legs.
Shorn and shriven caverners
of Cambridge pale hue.
Quake to hear the thunder
of the Wolers in full flow.
Drink wine
drunk whine.
Great Scot, les rosbif ravagers
of the ranting poa tribe,
have thrown the bebe
to the ground in their crush
to get the booze.
We crossed the river Jordan
to two horses draped with grape.
One hoarse and happy picnic
in the stables of the mad.
My aunt's old pen of whitest stone
such fluent notes performs.
The Anarking of Poetland
struck les grenuilles blind.
Kneel o' subjects for these gems,
put a feather in your hats.
For some the colour's purple,
and Mamie knows that best,
For those of us just feeling blue,
the darkest shade shines out.
The headache and the ragged throat,
safely packed and stowed.
The tall guy ticked to twelve again
and we were put to flight.
Captain Camel and the Band of Hope
Captain Camel and sweet Alabaster
pedalled for all they were worth.
Twisting tightly the rubber rope
that would take us from the earth.
This rubber band, the band of hope,
twitched and twanged 'til taut.
Joystick hoofed, and a plume of smoke,
My baby be good to us.
Poets quivered into their seats,
tense and pale and fraught.
Shuddering forward at stupid-o-clock
La Manche was hopped with aplomb.
There were actresses abounding
and bishops all about, but the
tall guy is at twelve right now
and the fat girl's right on eight.
We were strong armed round the city
by the sum son Church of Christ.
Past the black burned Jeanne
astride her mighty mount.
Not long into the foreign field
Makin beaucoup de pluie d'or
I'm struck with Bury Beret
like a spanner in the legs.
Shorn and shriven caverners
of Cambridge pale hue.
Quake to hear the thunder
of the Wolers in full flow.
Drink wine
drunk whine.
Great Scot, les rosbif ravagers
of the ranting poa tribe,
have thrown the bebe
to the ground in their crush
to get the booze.
We crossed the river Jordan
to two horses draped with grape.
One hoarse and happy picnic
in the stables of the mad.
My aunt's old pen of whitest stone
such fluent notes performs.
The Anarking of Poetland
struck les grenuilles blind.
Kneel o' subjects for these gems,
put a feather in your hats.
For some the colour's purple,
and Mamie knows that best,
For those of us just feeling blue,
the darkest shade shines out.
The headache and the ragged throat,
safely packed and stowed.
The tall guy ticked to twelve again
and we were put to flight.
Sat, 27 Oct 2007 11:33 am
Some photos from Bordeaux are now up in Galleries - sorry for the delay.
Thu, 1 Nov 2007 11:19 am
I've just uploaded my photos to my MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/freebie_junkie :)
Fri, 2 Nov 2007 01:02 pm
Malcolm
A brilliant record of the tripoetrycafeblur thing in Bordeaux.
You should do some compering some time. I cherish the memory of you telling anyone who would listen (which was absolutely no-one) to shut the Fork up, trying to keep the party going after it was all over (bar your shouting).
A brilliant record of the tripoetrycafeblur thing in Bordeaux.
You should do some compering some time. I cherish the memory of you telling anyone who would listen (which was absolutely no-one) to shut the Fork up, trying to keep the party going after it was all over (bar your shouting).
Sat, 17 Nov 2007 08:53 pm
Malcolm Saunders
Malcolm Saunders