Sprouting Green
The budding shoots of sprouting green,
Freshening breezes of air so clean.
The end of Winter's, dismal glow,
The finish of overpowering snow.
The beginning of Spring, another year,
To greet one gladly without fear.
Bringing a promise of Summer Sun,
Your work not yet completely done.
Warmth pervading slow but sure,
Deep down in my innermost core.
I pay you tributes that I surely owe,
For driving away the Winter's snow.
Lifting my spirit to heights empore,
Gaining strength for me to explore.
Nature's sweetest secrets on display,
For me to discover as I surely may.
Lifting the weight from my very soul,
As I watch the antics of a new born Foal.
Yes I greet the shoots of sprouting green,
The most beautiful sight that I have ever seen.
Old London Bridge - Only for Poets
Connecting the Poets who digging heart of me Still death - Sabarnasri
HEARTY WELCOME & HAVE A NICE STAY
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 India License.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Bernard Shaw - Silvery Moon
Silvery Moon
Round full Silvery Moon,
Lighting the darkest night.
Many a lover did swoon,
At such a glorious sight.
Wisps of clouds sailing past,
Tinged with silvery light.
Moons come and go so fast,
Theirs is a sad plight.
Pretty Maid look to the moon,
Count the minutes till dawn.
Your lover will appear very soon,
You will have no time to yawn.
A long embrace in willing arms,
Hearts beating in rhythmic time.
Both succumb to the Moon's charms,
Now I can finish my rhyme.
Round full Silvery Moon,
Lighting the darkest night.
Many a lover did swoon,
At such a glorious sight.
Wisps of clouds sailing past,
Tinged with silvery light.
Moons come and go so fast,
Theirs is a sad plight.
Pretty Maid look to the moon,
Count the minutes till dawn.
Your lover will appear very soon,
You will have no time to yawn.
A long embrace in willing arms,
Hearts beating in rhythmic time.
Both succumb to the Moon's charms,
Now I can finish my rhyme.
Bernard Shaw - Sentry
Sentry
Cold is the night air, The shadows deep,
Dawn is far from sight.
Ghost's of sleep tempt my watch,
On this cold and wintry night.
Hear I not the sound of foe,
Stealthily creeping nigh.
If only the light of day would show,
My time of watch gone by.
Cold is the night air, The shadows deep,
Dawn is far from sight.
Ghost's of sleep tempt my watch,
On this cold and wintry night.
Hear I not the sound of foe,
Stealthily creeping nigh.
If only the light of day would show,
My time of watch gone by.
Bernard Shaw - Santa's Letter
Santa's Letter
I wrote a letter to Santa Claus,
Asking if there was room on his sleigh.
For one little kitten, with very long claws,
To help brighten up my Christmas day.
I asked him not to put it into my stocking,
With the fruits and nuts and candy bars.
My Parents would find it rather shocking,
Even if it came from as far away as Mars.
It would be my very first cat; my own,
When Mum and Dad see it they will be sure to moan.
Mum will sigh and pretend to die,
Dad will give a discrete little groan.
But I will be filled with great delight,
This will surely be a wonderful sight.
I will feed it on milk and fish,
And take it with me to bed.
For it will be the fulfilment of my wish,
Mum will say it can stay.
But you will see to its needs,
I knew now that I would have my own way.
For it is one of Santa's good deeds,
Now this will make my Christmas day.
I wrote a letter to Santa Claus,
Asking if there was room on his sleigh.
For one little kitten, with very long claws,
To help brighten up my Christmas day.
I asked him not to put it into my stocking,
With the fruits and nuts and candy bars.
My Parents would find it rather shocking,
Even if it came from as far away as Mars.
It would be my very first cat; my own,
When Mum and Dad see it they will be sure to moan.
Mum will sigh and pretend to die,
Dad will give a discrete little groan.
But I will be filled with great delight,
This will surely be a wonderful sight.
I will feed it on milk and fish,
And take it with me to bed.
For it will be the fulfilment of my wish,
Mum will say it can stay.
But you will see to its needs,
I knew now that I would have my own way.
For it is one of Santa's good deeds,
Now this will make my Christmas day.
Bernard Shaw - Puppy Dog
Puppy Dog
I gazed into those deep brown eyes,
And was immediately mesmerised.
A two-month-old puppy just for me alone,
I knew that I must groom him and give him a home
As he grew I taught him some tricks,
I was the one that got the most kicks.
I would get him to lie down and die for the Queen,
That is a trick that most people have not seen.
Every day we went for long walks,
He listened carefully to all of my long-winded talks.
Sleeping by the side of my bed,
On his two front paws his wonderful head.
A wagging tail told me that he was at ease,
Just a wonderful dog that did me please.
Food was no problem he ate what I gave,
At the edge of my plate titbits I did save
When my meal was finished I placed them in his nap,
He gobbled them down as if to say there’s a good chap.
We were together for many a long year.
To me he was someone very dear.
If you get the chance to look into a Puppy’s eyes,
I just know that you are in for a surprise.
It might be that you too will have found a true friend,
Some one to help you your time to spend.
I gazed into those deep brown eyes,
And was immediately mesmerised.
A two-month-old puppy just for me alone,
I knew that I must groom him and give him a home
As he grew I taught him some tricks,
I was the one that got the most kicks.
I would get him to lie down and die for the Queen,
That is a trick that most people have not seen.
Every day we went for long walks,
He listened carefully to all of my long-winded talks.
Sleeping by the side of my bed,
On his two front paws his wonderful head.
A wagging tail told me that he was at ease,
Just a wonderful dog that did me please.
Food was no problem he ate what I gave,
At the edge of my plate titbits I did save
When my meal was finished I placed them in his nap,
He gobbled them down as if to say there’s a good chap.
We were together for many a long year.
To me he was someone very dear.
If you get the chance to look into a Puppy’s eyes,
I just know that you are in for a surprise.
It might be that you too will have found a true friend,
Some one to help you your time to spend.
Bernard Shaw - Princess
Princess
I will call you princess for that is what you are.
A wonderful smiling being that came from another star.
Lovely large brown eyes and a perfect little face,
Make me feel so good to belong to the human race.
Your Mother pushes your perambulator out into the fresh air,
You sit and gurgle, smiling without a single care.
A blessing you are to my old weary eyes,
Every time I see you I get a new surprise.
You are as pretty as a picture I once saw in a book.
Now when I see your perambulator I always stop to look.
You lift my spirits and I am happy to see once more,
A sweet little lady that pleases me to the core.
I pray that I may live a few more years on earth,
Just to see you grow and fill my life with mirth.
For nothing is as important to a man like me,
To see a childish spirit that is obviously so free.
May you grow into an adult that abounds with pleasure,
For in my old heart you will always be my treasure
I will call you princess for that is what you are.
A wonderful smiling being that came from another star.
Lovely large brown eyes and a perfect little face,
Make me feel so good to belong to the human race.
Your Mother pushes your perambulator out into the fresh air,
You sit and gurgle, smiling without a single care.
A blessing you are to my old weary eyes,
Every time I see you I get a new surprise.
You are as pretty as a picture I once saw in a book.
Now when I see your perambulator I always stop to look.
You lift my spirits and I am happy to see once more,
A sweet little lady that pleases me to the core.
I pray that I may live a few more years on earth,
Just to see you grow and fill my life with mirth.
For nothing is as important to a man like me,
To see a childish spirit that is obviously so free.
May you grow into an adult that abounds with pleasure,
For in my old heart you will always be my treasure
Bernard Shaw - Portrait
Portrait
I looked into my mirror and what did I see,
I saw a man that looked like me.
I said, 'Hello, ' 'Hello, ' said he,
Be I you or be you me?
If I be you and you be me,
Then who's face is that a looking at me.
I shaved myself and what do you know,
He did the same, The So and So.
This trick of his, is getting me down,
I'm beginning to think that he's a clown.
One more look just to see,
Be that him or be that me.
If that's him, I know what to do,
I'll hit the mirror with my shoe.
If it breaks, It's just as well,
For that face of his, is giving me hell.
I looked into my mirror and what did I see,
I saw a man that looked like me.
I said, 'Hello, ' 'Hello, ' said he,
Be I you or be you me?
If I be you and you be me,
Then who's face is that a looking at me.
I shaved myself and what do you know,
He did the same, The So and So.
This trick of his, is getting me down,
I'm beginning to think that he's a clown.
One more look just to see,
Be that him or be that me.
If that's him, I know what to do,
I'll hit the mirror with my shoe.
If it breaks, It's just as well,
For that face of his, is giving me hell.
Bernard Shaw - Policeman
Policeman
I like the Policeman that patrols our street,
He is a nice kind man with aching feet.
The kids all like him he always smiles,
Over the years he has walked many miles.
He always knows the time of day,
What is more he has plenty to say.
Sometimes he comes to the local schools,
To explain to the children the traffic's rules.
Also not to listen to strangers or take sweets,
For not every one is kind even on his beat.
To Mums and Dads he offers good advice,
For some of the children are not always nice.
A patient man that wears a uniform,
Some of his methods are not always conform.
A master of knowing what is right, what is wrong,
He shows the children the right path to go along.
If he should happen to come your way,
Be extra nice and bid him a good day.
Think of his aching feet,
The Policeman that patrols his beat.
I like the Policeman that patrols our street,
He is a nice kind man with aching feet.
The kids all like him he always smiles,
Over the years he has walked many miles.
He always knows the time of day,
What is more he has plenty to say.
Sometimes he comes to the local schools,
To explain to the children the traffic's rules.
Also not to listen to strangers or take sweets,
For not every one is kind even on his beat.
To Mums and Dads he offers good advice,
For some of the children are not always nice.
A patient man that wears a uniform,
Some of his methods are not always conform.
A master of knowing what is right, what is wrong,
He shows the children the right path to go along.
If he should happen to come your way,
Be extra nice and bid him a good day.
Think of his aching feet,
The Policeman that patrols his beat.
Bernard Shaw - Poetry
Poetry
Cool air from the electric fan,
perspiration running down my brow.
I try to write poetry the best I can,
but somehow I do not know how.
Angels and Fairies come into my brain,
I find myself grasping at straws,
Poetry eludes me again and again,
my life seems full of flaws.
The pen in my hand is heavy with ink,
inspiration comes not to my mind.
I try very hard to think,
but destiny is not too kind.
So I will put my pen away,
no poetry is very frustrating.
Tomorrow words will come my way,
which to me is very exhilarating.
Cool air from the electric fan,
perspiration running down my brow.
I try to write poetry the best I can,
but somehow I do not know how.
Angels and Fairies come into my brain,
I find myself grasping at straws,
Poetry eludes me again and again,
my life seems full of flaws.
The pen in my hand is heavy with ink,
inspiration comes not to my mind.
I try very hard to think,
but destiny is not too kind.
So I will put my pen away,
no poetry is very frustrating.
Tomorrow words will come my way,
which to me is very exhilarating.
Bernard Shaw - Parents
Parents
Parents are you both so blind,
That childish being is but yours to mind.
Give care, give love, give guidance well,
For that baby of man, is but a shell.
Deep within lies a Godly love,
Entrusted to you by Him above.
Such eyes of innocence, shining bright,
Those tiny hands that hold you tight.
Yes that is your own flesh and blood,
So let love flow like a rushing flood.
A childhood composed of loving Joys,
Kindness and compassion, shall be its toys.
Parents heed my words of warning,
The awareness of your child is dawning.
What reports of you will it give above,
When it is called by that Heavenly love.
Will it say that you were blind,
Or were you of that loving kind.
Parents are you both so blind,
That childish being is but yours to mind.
Give care, give love, give guidance well,
For that baby of man, is but a shell.
Deep within lies a Godly love,
Entrusted to you by Him above.
Such eyes of innocence, shining bright,
Those tiny hands that hold you tight.
Yes that is your own flesh and blood,
So let love flow like a rushing flood.
A childhood composed of loving Joys,
Kindness and compassion, shall be its toys.
Parents heed my words of warning,
The awareness of your child is dawning.
What reports of you will it give above,
When it is called by that Heavenly love.
Will it say that you were blind,
Or were you of that loving kind.
Bernard Shaw - One Of My Turns
One Of My Turns
While out in the garden counting my worms,
I suddenly had, one of my turns.
A Pig, a duck and a colony of ants,
Were dancing a waltz without any pants.
This behaviour was rather a riddle,
For music an elephant was playing a fiddle.
The Blackbirds were whistling and keeping in tune,
I think that it will be full moon very very soon.
A Robin was sitting upon the wall,
He asked if he could record it all.
Along hopped a Rabbit with a tape recorder,
And ate all the poppies in my flower border.
Now to act like this is rather queer,
Perhaps it's the weather at this time of year.
Who are these men with their long white coats,
Have they come to milk my Billy Goats.
Why are they holding my arms so tight,
I don't wander in my sleep at night.
All I was doing was counting my worms,
I cant help it if I get one of my turns.
While out in the garden counting my worms,
I suddenly had, one of my turns.
A Pig, a duck and a colony of ants,
Were dancing a waltz without any pants.
This behaviour was rather a riddle,
For music an elephant was playing a fiddle.
The Blackbirds were whistling and keeping in tune,
I think that it will be full moon very very soon.
A Robin was sitting upon the wall,
He asked if he could record it all.
Along hopped a Rabbit with a tape recorder,
And ate all the poppies in my flower border.
Now to act like this is rather queer,
Perhaps it's the weather at this time of year.
Who are these men with their long white coats,
Have they come to milk my Billy Goats.
Why are they holding my arms so tight,
I don't wander in my sleep at night.
All I was doing was counting my worms,
I cant help it if I get one of my turns.
Bernard Shaw - On My Way
On My Way
On my way to the shops in town,
My sense of humour let me down.
I had started counting the cracks in the pavement,
It was something I just had to do.
Then to my complete and utter amazement,
I suddenly bumped into you.
Loosing my count I cursed like mad,
I had reached the number one thousand and two.
To start all over made me feel sad,
Then I started cursing you.
I did not speak out loud,
This all took place in my brain.
On my horizon there is now a new cloud,
I do not want to bump into you again,
You were innocent of spoiling my game.
My counting was just to pass the time,
Now life will never be the same.
For you have committed an abominable crime,
I must find my sense of humour once more.
You were really not to blame, not you,
I will count the cracks again to be sure.
Perhaps my score will still be a thousand and two,
Then I will go on my way,
Ignoring the cracks in the street.
I will bid every one good day,
That I perchance happen to meet.
On my way to the shops in town,
My sense of humour let me down.
I had started counting the cracks in the pavement,
It was something I just had to do.
Then to my complete and utter amazement,
I suddenly bumped into you.
Loosing my count I cursed like mad,
I had reached the number one thousand and two.
To start all over made me feel sad,
Then I started cursing you.
I did not speak out loud,
This all took place in my brain.
On my horizon there is now a new cloud,
I do not want to bump into you again,
You were innocent of spoiling my game.
My counting was just to pass the time,
Now life will never be the same.
For you have committed an abominable crime,
I must find my sense of humour once more.
You were really not to blame, not you,
I will count the cracks again to be sure.
Perhaps my score will still be a thousand and two,
Then I will go on my way,
Ignoring the cracks in the street.
I will bid every one good day,
That I perchance happen to meet.
Bernard Shaw - Ocean
Ocean
While sailing across the wide Indian Ocean,
My stomach queasy, from the rolling motion.
I took a stroll along the upper deck,
A scarf tied loosely around my neck
Looking out over the ever moving sea,
A strange emotion came over me.
What was I doing on this old boat?
It was a wonder that she was still afloat.
I leaned against an old wooden plank,
When all of a sudden my mind went blank.
I found myself floating three feet above my head,
What is this I asked myself am I now dead?
I rose high up into the cloudless sky,
Up and up it was ever so high.
Looking down I could see the small ship upon the sea,
I got frightened and returned promptly to me.
We sailed on to the Port of old Bombay,
Where I caught home an aeroplane I am happy to say.
I will no more sail upon an ocean,
For it fills my heart with strange emotion.
While sailing across the wide Indian Ocean,
My stomach queasy, from the rolling motion.
I took a stroll along the upper deck,
A scarf tied loosely around my neck
Looking out over the ever moving sea,
A strange emotion came over me.
What was I doing on this old boat?
It was a wonder that she was still afloat.
I leaned against an old wooden plank,
When all of a sudden my mind went blank.
I found myself floating three feet above my head,
What is this I asked myself am I now dead?
I rose high up into the cloudless sky,
Up and up it was ever so high.
Looking down I could see the small ship upon the sea,
I got frightened and returned promptly to me.
We sailed on to the Port of old Bombay,
Where I caught home an aeroplane I am happy to say.
I will no more sail upon an ocean,
For it fills my heart with strange emotion.
Bernard Shaw - Oak Tree
Oak Tree
I took an acorn and put it in a pot.
I then covered it with earth, not a lot.
Great pleasure was mine watching it grow.
The first budding green came ever so slow.
I watered my plant twice a week
I knew I would transplant it down by the creek.
One day it will be a giant oak,
To shield me from the sun a sheltering cloak.
Lovers will carve their initials in the bark,
An arrow through a heart they will leave their mark.
It will shelter those caught in a fine summers rain,
Under its leafy bows joy will be again.
Creatures of the wilds will claim it for their own,
Squirrels will reside here in their own home.
Birds will build nests and raise their young,
They will sing melodies a chorus well sung.
Under it’s branches grass will grow,
Here and there a wild flower it’s head will show.
My oak tree for hundreds of years will live.
Perhaps the most important thing I had to give.
I took an acorn and put it in a pot.
I then covered it with earth, not a lot.
Great pleasure was mine watching it grow.
The first budding green came ever so slow.
I watered my plant twice a week
I knew I would transplant it down by the creek.
One day it will be a giant oak,
To shield me from the sun a sheltering cloak.
Lovers will carve their initials in the bark,
An arrow through a heart they will leave their mark.
It will shelter those caught in a fine summers rain,
Under its leafy bows joy will be again.
Creatures of the wilds will claim it for their own,
Squirrels will reside here in their own home.
Birds will build nests and raise their young,
They will sing melodies a chorus well sung.
Under it’s branches grass will grow,
Here and there a wild flower it’s head will show.
My oak tree for hundreds of years will live.
Perhaps the most important thing I had to give.
Bernard Shaw - Not Very Grand
Not Very Grand
What shall I write about today?
Nothing comes into my mind,
It seems that I do not have much to say,
Saying nothing is sometimes very kind.
The world goes around in the same old way,
I sit here pondering in my armchair.
Yes sometimes it is better with nothing to say,
To be for once without a care.
The seasons come the seasons go,
I am doomed to sit out my fate,
Everything goes so very slow,
My thoughts are out of date.
So today I will write about nought,
My pen is heavy in my hand.
You know it is worth a thought,
For writing nothing is not very grand.
What shall I write about today?
Nothing comes into my mind,
It seems that I do not have much to say,
Saying nothing is sometimes very kind.
The world goes around in the same old way,
I sit here pondering in my armchair.
Yes sometimes it is better with nothing to say,
To be for once without a care.
The seasons come the seasons go,
I am doomed to sit out my fate,
Everything goes so very slow,
My thoughts are out of date.
So today I will write about nought,
My pen is heavy in my hand.
You know it is worth a thought,
For writing nothing is not very grand.
Bernard Shaw - Not Much Fun
Not Much Fun
I will take a train and head for the sun,
Life at the moment is not much fun.
The sandy beach on a far away shore,
With Palm trees and Coconuts galore.
Would be the right place for me.
To watch the boats sailing out to sea.
Sun glinting on foam tossed waves,
Is just what my old body craves.
To feel a warm breeze coming in from the sea,
Would be absolute heaven for a man like me.
Little things of nature to please the eye,
Such as little puffy clouds sailing across the sky.
Yes if I had the money I would head for the sun.
For life at the moment is not much fun.
I will take a train and head for the sun,
Life at the moment is not much fun.
The sandy beach on a far away shore,
With Palm trees and Coconuts galore.
Would be the right place for me.
To watch the boats sailing out to sea.
Sun glinting on foam tossed waves,
Is just what my old body craves.
To feel a warm breeze coming in from the sea,
Would be absolute heaven for a man like me.
Little things of nature to please the eye,
Such as little puffy clouds sailing across the sky.
Yes if I had the money I would head for the sun.
For life at the moment is not much fun.
Bernard Shaw - Not A Clue
Not A Clue
I really do not know what to do,
In fact I have not a clue.
There is something that needs to be done,
Not knowing what it is is certainly no fun.
I wrack my brains hour after hour,
In fact I am beginning to feel sour.
It must be important I have this feeling,
My poor old brain is absolutely reeling.
I gaze around my humble abode,
Asking myself why should I carry this load.
What is it I ask myself again and again?
Am I loosing grip on my poor old brain.
A sudden flash right out of the blue,
I want to write a poem for you.
Yes for you, you are down in the dumps,
Your Doctor has told you that you have the mumps.
My poem I am sure will cheer you up,
If it doesn’t pour your self a drink and have a sup,
This is what I wanted to do,
My poem is finished and I don’t feel so blue.
I really do not know what to do,
In fact I have not a clue.
There is something that needs to be done,
Not knowing what it is is certainly no fun.
I wrack my brains hour after hour,
In fact I am beginning to feel sour.
It must be important I have this feeling,
My poor old brain is absolutely reeling.
I gaze around my humble abode,
Asking myself why should I carry this load.
What is it I ask myself again and again?
Am I loosing grip on my poor old brain.
A sudden flash right out of the blue,
I want to write a poem for you.
Yes for you, you are down in the dumps,
Your Doctor has told you that you have the mumps.
My poem I am sure will cheer you up,
If it doesn’t pour your self a drink and have a sup,
This is what I wanted to do,
My poem is finished and I don’t feel so blue.
Bernard Shaw - Nicest Town
Nicest Town
The nicest town I have ever seen,
Is small compact and ever so clean.
Elizabethan houses built long years ago,
They had gracefully aged ever so slow.
Oak beams held the thatched roofs of straw,
One of the prettiest sights I ever saw.
A Pub named after a Horse and Plough,
Is the main attraction both then and now.
Beer is sold in a bright atmosphere,
The Hostess and Host are glad you are here.
Welcome is the motto of the house,
Husbands come and bring your spouse.
Drinks are sold to one and all,
Eleven of the clock is time for the last call.
For a quick beer or one for the road.
It helps to lighten a heavy load.
Yes the nicest town I have ever seen,
Is small compact and ever so clean.
The nicest town I have ever seen,
Is small compact and ever so clean.
Elizabethan houses built long years ago,
They had gracefully aged ever so slow.
Oak beams held the thatched roofs of straw,
One of the prettiest sights I ever saw.
A Pub named after a Horse and Plough,
Is the main attraction both then and now.
Beer is sold in a bright atmosphere,
The Hostess and Host are glad you are here.
Welcome is the motto of the house,
Husbands come and bring your spouse.
Drinks are sold to one and all,
Eleven of the clock is time for the last call.
For a quick beer or one for the road.
It helps to lighten a heavy load.
Yes the nicest town I have ever seen,
Is small compact and ever so clean.
Bernard Shaw - Myriads of Stars
Myriads of Stars
There are myriads of stars in the night sky,
The month of June is drawing nigh.
A new moon peeps timidly but bright,
To help lighten this beautiful night.
A shooting star drops elegantly into my view,
I make a wish I just know it will come true.
Insects making music in the nightly background,
Have you ever heard such a melodious sound?
A fresh warm breeze blows from afar,
In the distance the low hum of a car,
This is truly nature at it's best,
The busy day long gone to rest.
A nightingale sings a song of the night,
Much to my pleasure and great delight.
There are myriads of stars in the night skies,
Only sweet nature understands my surprise.
There are myriads of stars in the night sky,
The month of June is drawing nigh.
A new moon peeps timidly but bright,
To help lighten this beautiful night.
A shooting star drops elegantly into my view,
I make a wish I just know it will come true.
Insects making music in the nightly background,
Have you ever heard such a melodious sound?
A fresh warm breeze blows from afar,
In the distance the low hum of a car,
This is truly nature at it's best,
The busy day long gone to rest.
A nightingale sings a song of the night,
Much to my pleasure and great delight.
There are myriads of stars in the night skies,
Only sweet nature understands my surprise.
Bernard Shaw - My Plight
My Plight
Bear with me as I tell of my plight,
I am just an old man that cannot sleep at night.
I have counted millions of sheep in my time,
Even written verses that usually rhyme.
Full moon nights are really the worse
For then I am compelled to write more verse.
Sleeping tablets I have take by the score,
These make things worse and cause me to snore.
I have had hot baths before going to bed,
These make my skin wrinkly and red.
Cold showers I have tried to make me sleep,
But I only end up counting more sheep.
They say as one gets older one does not need so much sleep.
When I hear this psuedo wisdom I just want to weep.
When I was young eight hours sleep was just right.
It saw me through a long restful night.
If just for once I could sleep through the night,
I would not ask you to bear with my plight.
Bear with me as I tell of my plight,
I am just an old man that cannot sleep at night.
I have counted millions of sheep in my time,
Even written verses that usually rhyme.
Full moon nights are really the worse
For then I am compelled to write more verse.
Sleeping tablets I have take by the score,
These make things worse and cause me to snore.
I have had hot baths before going to bed,
These make my skin wrinkly and red.
Cold showers I have tried to make me sleep,
But I only end up counting more sheep.
They say as one gets older one does not need so much sleep.
When I hear this psuedo wisdom I just want to weep.
When I was young eight hours sleep was just right.
It saw me through a long restful night.
If just for once I could sleep through the night,
I would not ask you to bear with my plight.
Bernard Shaw - My Hand
My Hand
Guide this my hand; guide it well,
Over virgin paper so pure and white.
Let me a story of love tell.
Love that is filled with delight
May my hand never fail or tire,
Words of wisdom flow this very day.
For love is filled with wanting desire,
Yes this is what I want to say.
So come gentle words of sweetest love,
Help fill this patient sheet of white
May it be about a Damsel’s glove?
Or of kisses stolen in the night.
Guide this my hand; guide it well,
Over virgin paper so pure and white.
Let me a story of love tell.
Love that is filled with delight
May my hand never fail or tire,
Words of wisdom flow this very day.
For love is filled with wanting desire,
Yes this is what I want to say.
So come gentle words of sweetest love,
Help fill this patient sheet of white
May it be about a Damsel’s glove?
Or of kisses stolen in the night.
Bernard Shaw - My Favourite Hymns
My Favourite Hymns
They are singing my favourite Hymns again,
In the Chapel on top of the hill,
I quietly join in with each refrain,
And still feel the age-old thrill.
The thrill I felt as a young boy,
When religion governed my life.
Singing has always been my one great joy,
Taking me away from all lowly strife.
I was once a boy in the choir,
A soprano voice was mine.
My heart was full of desire,
I sang each note so fine.
Sundays in the Chapel I sang,
Choir practice twice a week,
My voice loud and clear rang,
For my Lord I did feverishly seek.
They are singing my favourite Hymns again,
In the Chapel on top of the hill,
I quietly join in with each refrain,
And still feel the age-old thrill.
The thrill I felt as a young boy,
When religion governed my life.
Singing has always been my one great joy,
Taking me away from all lowly strife.
I was once a boy in the choir,
A soprano voice was mine.
My heart was full of desire,
I sang each note so fine.
Sundays in the Chapel I sang,
Choir practice twice a week,
My voice loud and clear rang,
For my Lord I did feverishly seek.
Bernard Shaw - MUSIC
MUSIC
It's the finest music in the land.
Sung by a choir, that's not very grand.
The one you can hear singing top note,
Is a Black and White Billy or Mountain Goat.
No one reads music, that's not of much use.
Conducting is usually done by the Goose.
The Chickens and Ducks Keep well in Tune,
Our Farm Dog howls by the light of the moon.
The Cows you know start off with a moo,
That's the signal for the Owls too-whit and too-whoo.
The Sow with her Piglets, begins to grunt.
The Fox joins in and leaves the Hunt.
The Horses are good and give a loud neigh,
Not to be left out the Donkeys bray.
I've not mentioned the Birds of the air,
Wonderful how they all do their share.
The Cats of course are masters of this art,
And with their Kittens all take part.
The Cockerel is perhaps a little too loud,
But then again he is rather proud.
This choir of mine is very well trained,
Only the Church has of yet complained.
We sing our praises to Him on high,
The Poor Old Vicar, can only sigh.
His congregation consists of but few,
I'll help with my choir, How about YOU.
It's the finest music in the land.
Sung by a choir, that's not very grand.
The one you can hear singing top note,
Is a Black and White Billy or Mountain Goat.
No one reads music, that's not of much use.
Conducting is usually done by the Goose.
The Chickens and Ducks Keep well in Tune,
Our Farm Dog howls by the light of the moon.
The Cows you know start off with a moo,
That's the signal for the Owls too-whit and too-whoo.
The Sow with her Piglets, begins to grunt.
The Fox joins in and leaves the Hunt.
The Horses are good and give a loud neigh,
Not to be left out the Donkeys bray.
I've not mentioned the Birds of the air,
Wonderful how they all do their share.
The Cats of course are masters of this art,
And with their Kittens all take part.
The Cockerel is perhaps a little too loud,
But then again he is rather proud.
This choir of mine is very well trained,
Only the Church has of yet complained.
We sing our praises to Him on high,
The Poor Old Vicar, can only sigh.
His congregation consists of but few,
I'll help with my choir, How about YOU.
Bernard Shaw - Music 2
Music 2
I have listened to music from a gramophone,
It is somewhat tinny and false in tone.
I have also heard melodies from the radio,
That set my feet tapping I was rearing to go.
Musicians from a local band have played,
Catchy tunes over a microphone relayed.
Piano accordions from expert French Artists,
Have set me dancing from Tango to twist.
The Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra a delight for my ears,
Have kept me happy down through the years.
Music is indeed balm to my soul,
Helping me on the way to my goal.
Thank goodness for music and wonderful tones,
For this thing called music can melt hearts of stone.
I have listened to music from a gramophone,
It is somewhat tinny and false in tone.
I have also heard melodies from the radio,
That set my feet tapping I was rearing to go.
Musicians from a local band have played,
Catchy tunes over a microphone relayed.
Piano accordions from expert French Artists,
Have set me dancing from Tango to twist.
The Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra a delight for my ears,
Have kept me happy down through the years.
Music is indeed balm to my soul,
Helping me on the way to my goal.
Thank goodness for music and wonderful tones,
For this thing called music can melt hearts of stone.
Bernard Shaw - Mortal Man
Mortal Man
Walking through the grass so green,
I saw a beautiful Fairy Queen.
She was combing her golden hair,
All I could do was stand and stare.
Turning, smiling, she looked at me,
And said she'd grant me wishes three.
Choose carefully mortal man,
For I cannot increase your life's span.
So wish not before you think,
For I have driven many a man to drink.
All that glitters is not gold,
These three wishes can make one old.
You may wish for health and wealth,
Or much happiness for yourself.
Oh Fairy Queen, Majesty fair,
As you stand, combing your hair,
There is nothing that I want from you,
I have my health and happiness too.
My five senses work quite well,
The crafts of my hands I can easily sell.
As I walk though this grass so green,
Breathing God's air so fresh and clean.
I thank the Lord for a wonderful day,
Also for sending you my way.
As you may see, by my words of reply,
My aspirations are not too high.
For I have all that I need,
My heart was never filled with greed.
So I bid you farewell as I go on my way,
Save your three wishes for another day.
The next mortal man that you may meet,
Might find your wishes extra sweet.
But I am content just as I am,
An ordinary happy, Mortal Man.
Walking through the grass so green,
I saw a beautiful Fairy Queen.
She was combing her golden hair,
All I could do was stand and stare.
Turning, smiling, she looked at me,
And said she'd grant me wishes three.
Choose carefully mortal man,
For I cannot increase your life's span.
So wish not before you think,
For I have driven many a man to drink.
All that glitters is not gold,
These three wishes can make one old.
You may wish for health and wealth,
Or much happiness for yourself.
Oh Fairy Queen, Majesty fair,
As you stand, combing your hair,
There is nothing that I want from you,
I have my health and happiness too.
My five senses work quite well,
The crafts of my hands I can easily sell.
As I walk though this grass so green,
Breathing God's air so fresh and clean.
I thank the Lord for a wonderful day,
Also for sending you my way.
As you may see, by my words of reply,
My aspirations are not too high.
For I have all that I need,
My heart was never filled with greed.
So I bid you farewell as I go on my way,
Save your three wishes for another day.
The next mortal man that you may meet,
Might find your wishes extra sweet.
But I am content just as I am,
An ordinary happy, Mortal Man.
Bernard Shaw - Morning Star
Morning Star
This proud ship is the Morning Star,
She is built of solid oak beams.
A smell of varnish and fresh boiled tar,
With brass that in sunshine gleams.
Her masts and rigging tell of ancient skills,
Sails unfurled awaiting a breeze.
Bellowing canvas at long last fills,
And her bows plough furrows in the seas.
A darkening sky a foreboding of storms,
With a hush distressing the soul.
Saint Anselm plays with fire, and forms,
Rain and thunder engulfing the whole.
Waves break over those bows of oak,
Men shudder and fight for a hold.
Many a prayer for calm was spoke,
Tall tales of despair were told.
Three days and nights, seas kept at bay,
Then calm and a time for sleep.
Sail makers repairs took many a day,
They were saved from that yawning deep.
The Morning Star is outward bound,
Chile is the course we've set,
Pass we not Cape Horn, safe and sound,
Those fathoms will be our yet.
Clear skies indeed with nary a cloud,
Heat and sickness is our lot.
Gazing at mast's that stand so proud,
Eyes blinded by a sun so hot.
This Maiden Voyage of the Morning Star,
An opus of men's iron will.
Shall we reach that land so far,
Lying here becalmed and still.
Sea-way has come at long last,
A movement, A ripple of sales.
Taking us on to the icy blast,
Of the Horns most fearsome gales.
We are past the Horn, No dreaded storm,
With sea as calm as a pond.
The Morning Star, is much in form.
For together we have forged a bond.
Homeward bound, cargo is filled,
Hearts beat higher with hope.
Loved one's waiting, need is stilled,
Hands blistered by the pull on rope.
Gliding into port sails are trimmed,
Shouts of command are heard
The memories of hardships strangely dimmed,
As Morning Star is likened to a bird.
This proud ship is the Morning Star,
She is built of solid oak beams.
A smell of varnish and fresh boiled tar,
With brass that in sunshine gleams.
Her masts and rigging tell of ancient skills,
Sails unfurled awaiting a breeze.
Bellowing canvas at long last fills,
And her bows plough furrows in the seas.
A darkening sky a foreboding of storms,
With a hush distressing the soul.
Saint Anselm plays with fire, and forms,
Rain and thunder engulfing the whole.
Waves break over those bows of oak,
Men shudder and fight for a hold.
Many a prayer for calm was spoke,
Tall tales of despair were told.
Three days and nights, seas kept at bay,
Then calm and a time for sleep.
Sail makers repairs took many a day,
They were saved from that yawning deep.
The Morning Star is outward bound,
Chile is the course we've set,
Pass we not Cape Horn, safe and sound,
Those fathoms will be our yet.
Clear skies indeed with nary a cloud,
Heat and sickness is our lot.
Gazing at mast's that stand so proud,
Eyes blinded by a sun so hot.
This Maiden Voyage of the Morning Star,
An opus of men's iron will.
Shall we reach that land so far,
Lying here becalmed and still.
Sea-way has come at long last,
A movement, A ripple of sales.
Taking us on to the icy blast,
Of the Horns most fearsome gales.
We are past the Horn, No dreaded storm,
With sea as calm as a pond.
The Morning Star, is much in form.
For together we have forged a bond.
Homeward bound, cargo is filled,
Hearts beat higher with hope.
Loved one's waiting, need is stilled,
Hands blistered by the pull on rope.
Gliding into port sails are trimmed,
Shouts of command are heard
The memories of hardships strangely dimmed,
As Morning Star is likened to a bird.
Bernard Shaw - Low And Deep
Low And Deep
In the silence of the night when all should be still,
I hear the loud roar of traffic going over the hill.
In the far distance I hear the sounds of a train,
All slowly builds up into a noisy loud refrain.
Here and there the cry of a hunting bird of prey,
A storm, thunder and lightning flash making night into day.
The long distance aeroplane from a far away land,
All make up this cacophony of a very loud band.
This I must endure night after sleepless night,
Is there no one to take pity on my desperate plight?
Sleeping tablets is the answer you might say,
Or use earplugs they are popular in this day.
But you know when I close my weary eyes,
All of the noises of the night are no surprise.
So I lay awake miserable and in despair,
No one it seems has a real reason to care.
Then suddenly I fall into a troubled sleep,
To wake in the morning, my spirits low and deep.
In the silence of the night when all should be still,
I hear the loud roar of traffic going over the hill.
In the far distance I hear the sounds of a train,
All slowly builds up into a noisy loud refrain.
Here and there the cry of a hunting bird of prey,
A storm, thunder and lightning flash making night into day.
The long distance aeroplane from a far away land,
All make up this cacophony of a very loud band.
This I must endure night after sleepless night,
Is there no one to take pity on my desperate plight?
Sleeping tablets is the answer you might say,
Or use earplugs they are popular in this day.
But you know when I close my weary eyes,
All of the noises of the night are no surprise.
So I lay awake miserable and in despair,
No one it seems has a real reason to care.
Then suddenly I fall into a troubled sleep,
To wake in the morning, my spirits low and deep.
Bernard Shaw - Love
Love
It took your love to open my eyes,
I had been blind for years.
Many a Maid much to my surprise,
I had sadly driven to tears.
Some were comely to the sight,
Others had an innermost beauty.
All were charming without blight,
And I did my Gentlemanly duty.
Then you came along I was enraptured,
You were perfect in every way.
My heart you completely captured,
Now it was you that had the say.
Your love took my hardened heart,
I was putty in your sweet hands.
There was no inkling of a doubt,
My love for you speaks bands.
It took your love to open my eyes,
I had been blind for years.
Many a Maid much to my surprise,
I had sadly driven to tears.
Some were comely to the sight,
Others had an innermost beauty.
All were charming without blight,
And I did my Gentlemanly duty.
Then you came along I was enraptured,
You were perfect in every way.
My heart you completely captured,
Now it was you that had the say.
Your love took my hardened heart,
I was putty in your sweet hands.
There was no inkling of a doubt,
My love for you speaks bands.
Bernard Shaw - Love and Friendship
Love and Friendship
Have you told your kids I love you?
Given them all a big hug today?
In my youth loving words were few,
We were sent out to be out of the way.
Indoors we spoke when spoken to,
Silence ruled most of our day.
When breaking a rule we always knew,
That punishment would come our way.
Each had their jobs of work to be done,
We cleaned and polished and shined.
Life believe me was not much fun,
For breach of the rules we were fined.
In the orphanage no one said I love you,
Never the time for a hug and a kiss,
Friendship was for me something new,
It was the main thing that I did most miss.
So remember to hug and kiss your kids each day,
Show them that you love and care.
That they too will go on their way,
With love and friendship to share.
Have you told your kids I love you?
Given them all a big hug today?
In my youth loving words were few,
We were sent out to be out of the way.
Indoors we spoke when spoken to,
Silence ruled most of our day.
When breaking a rule we always knew,
That punishment would come our way.
Each had their jobs of work to be done,
We cleaned and polished and shined.
Life believe me was not much fun,
For breach of the rules we were fined.
In the orphanage no one said I love you,
Never the time for a hug and a kiss,
Friendship was for me something new,
It was the main thing that I did most miss.
So remember to hug and kiss your kids each day,
Show them that you love and care.
That they too will go on their way,
With love and friendship to share.
Bernard Shaw - Long, Long Ago
Long, Long Ago
Once upon a time long, long ago,
When life’s pace went ever so slow.
People had time to see life’s run,
No rush or hurry to get things done.
Life went by at a steady pace,
Neighbours looked each other in the face.
A helping hand here and there,
Hardships causing people to share,
Village life was lived at ease,
A time when life did please,
Now the rush and bustle to get things done,
Has taken away life’s very fun.
No time to look at Natures beauty,
People fall back ward to do their duty.
Take me back to long ago,
That I too may live my life so slow,
See the beauty that is all around,
In the Heavens and on the ground.
Once upon a time long, long ago,
When life’s pace went ever so slow.
People had time to see life’s run,
No rush or hurry to get things done.
Life went by at a steady pace,
Neighbours looked each other in the face.
A helping hand here and there,
Hardships causing people to share,
Village life was lived at ease,
A time when life did please,
Now the rush and bustle to get things done,
Has taken away life’s very fun.
No time to look at Natures beauty,
People fall back ward to do their duty.
Take me back to long ago,
That I too may live my life so slow,
See the beauty that is all around,
In the Heavens and on the ground.
Bernard Shaw - Lonely Night
Lonely Night
A place by the fire in my old arm chair,
I am alone with no one my fire to share.
The crackling of logs burning bright,
Consoling me in my weary plight.
Shadows playing on ceiling and wall,
Ghosts past and present coming to call.
Outside the wind howls and moans.
Reminding me of my aching bones.
I am in the grip of melancholy deep,
Just past rendezvous I could not keep.
A fleeting glimpse of happiness long past,
With the echo's of words spoken too fast.
A candle in the window to light the way,
To any lost soul that wants to stay.
All are welcome to a place by my fire,
This is my wish my one desire.
Loneliness is what I fear most,
I am willing to play the welcoming host.
Come along guided by my candle's light,
And help me pass this lonely night
A place by the fire in my old arm chair,
I am alone with no one my fire to share.
The crackling of logs burning bright,
Consoling me in my weary plight.
Shadows playing on ceiling and wall,
Ghosts past and present coming to call.
Outside the wind howls and moans.
Reminding me of my aching bones.
I am in the grip of melancholy deep,
Just past rendezvous I could not keep.
A fleeting glimpse of happiness long past,
With the echo's of words spoken too fast.
A candle in the window to light the way,
To any lost soul that wants to stay.
All are welcome to a place by my fire,
This is my wish my one desire.
Loneliness is what I fear most,
I am willing to play the welcoming host.
Come along guided by my candle's light,
And help me pass this lonely night
Bernard Shaw - Leprechaun
Leprechaun
Sitting on a toad stool at the break of dawn,
Was an Irish Elf known as the Leprechaun.
I listened to him singing with a voice so clear,
His praise of Nature was music to my ear.
He sung of flowers covered in morning dew,
And of gossamer cobwebs spun in the night anew.
His voice accompanied the early birds just awake,
Blending well with the sweet tones that they make.
The he plucked some shamrocks with four perfect leaves,
These he placed carefully in his pockets and up his sleeves.
He sang of his good luck and his pots of gold,
That he had been saving from the days of old.
Then he turned his head and saw my astonished look,
Told me to go home and write about this encounter in my poetry book.
I bid him good day and went on my way,
Now that he had seen me I could not stay,
So I returned home and wrote this little verse,
About the Leprechaun that sung praise to the Universe.
Sitting on a toad stool at the break of dawn,
Was an Irish Elf known as the Leprechaun.
I listened to him singing with a voice so clear,
His praise of Nature was music to my ear.
He sung of flowers covered in morning dew,
And of gossamer cobwebs spun in the night anew.
His voice accompanied the early birds just awake,
Blending well with the sweet tones that they make.
The he plucked some shamrocks with four perfect leaves,
These he placed carefully in his pockets and up his sleeves.
He sang of his good luck and his pots of gold,
That he had been saving from the days of old.
Then he turned his head and saw my astonished look,
Told me to go home and write about this encounter in my poetry book.
I bid him good day and went on my way,
Now that he had seen me I could not stay,
So I returned home and wrote this little verse,
About the Leprechaun that sung praise to the Universe.
Bernard Shaw - Just a Day Dream
Just a Day Dream
Fairies are deep in the woods playing with the many coloured butterflies.
I am sitting comfortably on a log pretending to be looking up at the skies.
The peaceful surroundings make my eyelids so heavy with a want to sleep.
Suddenly my eyes do close and I am in the midst of a flock of fairy sheep.
A black and white collie sheep dog keeps the rambling sheep together.
My mind drifts and wanders I am now as light as the proverbial feather.
The scene now changes ever so slowly as if guided by a magical hand.
I am now wandering through the wonderful country known as Fairyland.
Leprechauns dressed in russet browns and greens ask me the time of day.
Pixies, Imps, and Trolls are looking for fun and want just with me to play.
All is coloured in sunshine’s rays of gold, not a cloud to be seen in the sky.
But wait, what is that? Ah a green dragon with wings is slowly flying by.
Small thatched cottages sprinkled here and there among the forest trees.
This is something I know that would all of the little children highly please.
In a clearing I saw the famous Pegasus the white flying horse with its wings.
It was nibbling at some green grass and ignored the Fairies on the swings.
Yes Fairies were swinging on swings that were made by the Leprechauns.
Then I saw a most beautiful animal on its head was a long snow white horn.
Slowly a long procession of the little folk made its way to where I was sitting.
Then I saw the Fairy Queen with a long silken gown that was very fitting.
On her head a crown with diamonds and beautiful white pearls set in gold.
Should I bow? Should I speak? As a humble human should I be so bold?
The Fairy Queen smiled at me and wished me the most wonderful of days.
My! she looked so divinely beautiful in the sunshine’s most golden of rays.
Then suddenly a loud noise it was like a clap of thunder to my poor old ears.
I admit I quickly awoke bathed in sweat from some horrible unknown fears.
It was just the noise from a bough that broke away from one of the Oak trees.
It was you know very, very distressing and had me shaking at my knees.
I still believe in Fairies and will do for the rest of I hope my very long life.
Perhaps you can just picture the fairies and me with my lovely wife.
Fairies are deep in the woods playing with the many coloured butterflies.
I am sitting comfortably on a log pretending to be looking up at the skies.
The peaceful surroundings make my eyelids so heavy with a want to sleep.
Suddenly my eyes do close and I am in the midst of a flock of fairy sheep.
A black and white collie sheep dog keeps the rambling sheep together.
My mind drifts and wanders I am now as light as the proverbial feather.
The scene now changes ever so slowly as if guided by a magical hand.
I am now wandering through the wonderful country known as Fairyland.
Leprechauns dressed in russet browns and greens ask me the time of day.
Pixies, Imps, and Trolls are looking for fun and want just with me to play.
All is coloured in sunshine’s rays of gold, not a cloud to be seen in the sky.
But wait, what is that? Ah a green dragon with wings is slowly flying by.
Small thatched cottages sprinkled here and there among the forest trees.
This is something I know that would all of the little children highly please.
In a clearing I saw the famous Pegasus the white flying horse with its wings.
It was nibbling at some green grass and ignored the Fairies on the swings.
Yes Fairies were swinging on swings that were made by the Leprechauns.
Then I saw a most beautiful animal on its head was a long snow white horn.
Slowly a long procession of the little folk made its way to where I was sitting.
Then I saw the Fairy Queen with a long silken gown that was very fitting.
On her head a crown with diamonds and beautiful white pearls set in gold.
Should I bow? Should I speak? As a humble human should I be so bold?
The Fairy Queen smiled at me and wished me the most wonderful of days.
My! she looked so divinely beautiful in the sunshine’s most golden of rays.
Then suddenly a loud noise it was like a clap of thunder to my poor old ears.
I admit I quickly awoke bathed in sweat from some horrible unknown fears.
It was just the noise from a bough that broke away from one of the Oak trees.
It was you know very, very distressing and had me shaking at my knees.
I still believe in Fairies and will do for the rest of I hope my very long life.
Perhaps you can just picture the fairies and me with my lovely wife.
Bernard Shaw - Jonah
Jonah
Jonah decided to go for a sail,
He got himself caught in the middle of a Gale.
It was a very rough sea late at night,
Jonah was washed overboard, a terrible plight.
At that very moment God sent a Whale,
Who swallowed poor Jonah, Gee! what a tale.
You may believe it or you may not,
But please be honest the story is hot.
It has been passed down through the years,
Always been one of a Seaman's fears.
The story of Jonah who got washed overboard in a gale,
And found himself in the belly of a whale.
Jonah decided to go for a sail,
He got himself caught in the middle of a Gale.
It was a very rough sea late at night,
Jonah was washed overboard, a terrible plight.
At that very moment God sent a Whale,
Who swallowed poor Jonah, Gee! what a tale.
You may believe it or you may not,
But please be honest the story is hot.
It has been passed down through the years,
Always been one of a Seaman's fears.
The story of Jonah who got washed overboard in a gale,
And found himself in the belly of a whale.
Bernard Shaw - Industrial Dream
Industrial Dream
The pulley wheels are spinning fast,
Leather bands drive strange machines.
Lights flickering, shadows cast,
So it was in my dreams.
Noise deafening as drills bored through,
Metal sheet and iron struts.
Chaos reigned in this motley crew,
As man tightened bolts and nuts.
Soon my senses were in a whirl,
I could not take the pace.
Beads of sweat from my face do purl
In the madness of the human race.
Twelve hours long no rest for me,
The machine the master of my fate.
No way out that I could see,
My soul began to fill with hate.
I was a member of a working force,
Prefabricated parts left the machines.
Little pay a matter of course,
This is what filled my dreams
Assembly lines teams of workers,
Rushing feet; hands so adept.
Here no place for shirkers,
For there is a fixed target to get.
The siren blows end of shift,
Tools change hands others take our place,
My spirit takes on a new lift,
As a smile gathers on my face.
The pulley wheels are spinning fast,
Leather bands drive strange machines.
Lights flickering, shadows cast,
So it was in my dreams.
Noise deafening as drills bored through,
Metal sheet and iron struts.
Chaos reigned in this motley crew,
As man tightened bolts and nuts.
Soon my senses were in a whirl,
I could not take the pace.
Beads of sweat from my face do purl
In the madness of the human race.
Twelve hours long no rest for me,
The machine the master of my fate.
No way out that I could see,
My soul began to fill with hate.
I was a member of a working force,
Prefabricated parts left the machines.
Little pay a matter of course,
This is what filled my dreams
Assembly lines teams of workers,
Rushing feet; hands so adept.
Here no place for shirkers,
For there is a fixed target to get.
The siren blows end of shift,
Tools change hands others take our place,
My spirit takes on a new lift,
As a smile gathers on my face.
Bernard Shaw - In My Heart
In My Heart
In my heart I have a picture of you,
the picture is old but you are as new.
For years I have carried it around with me,
Jealously hiding it so that no one should see.
The picture changes depending on my mood,
if I am hungry for love, you are my food.
When I am feeling sad you are my prop,
helping me back on the way to the top.
Happy and cheerful I face each day,
your smiling face guides me on my way.
Yours is a picture that never dims with age,
with you free in my heart not in a cage.
You are with me both day and night,
filling my years with strange delight.
I have seen many pictures in my long life,
but none so beautiful as you my dear wife.
Yes in my heart I have a picture of you,
the picture is old but you are as new.
In my heart I have a picture of you,
the picture is old but you are as new.
For years I have carried it around with me,
Jealously hiding it so that no one should see.
The picture changes depending on my mood,
if I am hungry for love, you are my food.
When I am feeling sad you are my prop,
helping me back on the way to the top.
Happy and cheerful I face each day,
your smiling face guides me on my way.
Yours is a picture that never dims with age,
with you free in my heart not in a cage.
You are with me both day and night,
filling my years with strange delight.
I have seen many pictures in my long life,
but none so beautiful as you my dear wife.
Yes in my heart I have a picture of you,
the picture is old but you are as new.
Bernard Shaw - In A Shoe
In A Shoe
There was an old woman, who lived in a shoe,
She had so many children that she did not know what to do.
This story has come down through the ages,
Strange but her name is not in the yellow pages.
Was it the fact that she lived in a shoe?
Or had so many children, I have not a clue.
How did she feed all those hungry young mites?
It must have kept her awake most of her nights.
Was she helped by the local peoples around?
Did the Farmers help with crops from the ground?
Who was the father of all these offspring?
From him we know nothing, no not a thing.
Clothing for her children was a problem to be solved.
How many other helping hands were involved?
The whole story is a mystery to me and to others,
Were the children all hers or did they have different mothers?
So many questions with hardly any answers,
Was the old woman one of life’s chancer's?
Or was she really an old woman that lived in a shoe?
I cannot tell but how about you.
There was an old woman, who lived in a shoe,
She had so many children that she did not know what to do.
This story has come down through the ages,
Strange but her name is not in the yellow pages.
Was it the fact that she lived in a shoe?
Or had so many children, I have not a clue.
How did she feed all those hungry young mites?
It must have kept her awake most of her nights.
Was she helped by the local peoples around?
Did the Farmers help with crops from the ground?
Who was the father of all these offspring?
From him we know nothing, no not a thing.
Clothing for her children was a problem to be solved.
How many other helping hands were involved?
The whole story is a mystery to me and to others,
Were the children all hers or did they have different mothers?
So many questions with hardly any answers,
Was the old woman one of life’s chancer's?
Or was she really an old woman that lived in a shoe?
I cannot tell but how about you.
Bernard Shaw - Imagination
Imagination
I used to play at Pirates,
And sailed the seven seas.
Then I was a cowboy,
These simple things did me please.
I had a vivid imagination,
Adventure was always on my mind.
I discovered the joys of reading,
And escaped the daily grind.
Once I lived with the Eskimos,
In the land of ice and snow,
Went hunting and a fishing,
My fantasy was all aglow.
I read a book of Jules Verne,
And went off to the moon,
It was just to take a look,
Then it was time to return.
I spent time in the forests of Africa,
With Dr. Livingstone as my guide,
Then off again to America,
With Huckleberry Finn I did hide.
In my world of fantasy and imagination,
I performed such wonderful deeds.
A Hero of all the Nations,
I was the one that did succeed.
Then I grew up my childish world at an end.
I had become serious it nearly drove me around the bend.
I still do like the mysterious,
This is the message I am trying to send.
I used to play at Pirates,
And sailed the seven seas.
Then I was a cowboy,
These simple things did me please.
I had a vivid imagination,
Adventure was always on my mind.
I discovered the joys of reading,
And escaped the daily grind.
Once I lived with the Eskimos,
In the land of ice and snow,
Went hunting and a fishing,
My fantasy was all aglow.
I read a book of Jules Verne,
And went off to the moon,
It was just to take a look,
Then it was time to return.
I spent time in the forests of Africa,
With Dr. Livingstone as my guide,
Then off again to America,
With Huckleberry Finn I did hide.
In my world of fantasy and imagination,
I performed such wonderful deeds.
A Hero of all the Nations,
I was the one that did succeed.
Then I grew up my childish world at an end.
I had become serious it nearly drove me around the bend.
I still do like the mysterious,
This is the message I am trying to send.
Bernard Shaw - I Lived In A
I Lived In A Cardboard Box
I lived in a cardboard box from April to December,
No work, No money, No food, Ah how I well remember.
I wandered the busy streets looking for a job or two,
How People looked and disdained we the miserable few.
I washed dishes, in a busy restaurant it was worth a meal,
No one cared or asked but it was forbidden you know to steal.
When my work was done I washed and shaved my face,
I could not press my tattered suit it was really a disgrace.
I walked back to my box with newspapers that I had found,
It was a good insulation you know on that hard cold ground.
I was not alone others were quite near to me,
We all had a box it was the best we could do you see.
Many or all were hungry and some suffered from the cold.
We were quite well mixed, some young and some really old.
How we looked forward to the Salvation Army’s hot soup,
It somehow kept us upright no human should have to stoop.
Then there came the day when we given some clothes,
A charitable organisation gave that what others had disposed.
On a cold December’s morning my luck suddenly changed,
They admitted me into hospital; they thought that I was disarranged.
I was given a nice warm bed and a really good slap up feed,
A Lady asked me about my circumstances and what I would need.
I said, “I wanted a job any work would do, and of course a room, ”
A whole week they kept me and watched me push a broom.
Then along came a man dressed in a suit of clothes (Quite New) .
Come along with me he said and I will see what I can do.
I have never been out of work since and I have always worked hard.
Now I am retired and lead the life of a Bard.
I lived in a cardboard box from April to December,
No work, No money, No food, Ah how I well remember.
I wandered the busy streets looking for a job or two,
How People looked and disdained we the miserable few.
I washed dishes, in a busy restaurant it was worth a meal,
No one cared or asked but it was forbidden you know to steal.
When my work was done I washed and shaved my face,
I could not press my tattered suit it was really a disgrace.
I walked back to my box with newspapers that I had found,
It was a good insulation you know on that hard cold ground.
I was not alone others were quite near to me,
We all had a box it was the best we could do you see.
Many or all were hungry and some suffered from the cold.
We were quite well mixed, some young and some really old.
How we looked forward to the Salvation Army’s hot soup,
It somehow kept us upright no human should have to stoop.
Then there came the day when we given some clothes,
A charitable organisation gave that what others had disposed.
On a cold December’s morning my luck suddenly changed,
They admitted me into hospital; they thought that I was disarranged.
I was given a nice warm bed and a really good slap up feed,
A Lady asked me about my circumstances and what I would need.
I said, “I wanted a job any work would do, and of course a room, ”
A whole week they kept me and watched me push a broom.
Then along came a man dressed in a suit of clothes (Quite New) .
Come along with me he said and I will see what I can do.
I have never been out of work since and I have always worked hard.
Now I am retired and lead the life of a Bard.
Bernard Shaw - I Am Going Home
I Am Going Home
Cows happily chew the cud.
Pigs wallow in the mud.
Cats purr when they are stroked,
Salmon is expensive when it is smoked.
Giraffes never get sore throats.
Elephants do not need overcoats.
Wolves howl at the moon.
Turtledoves never swoon.
Ducks swim in rivers and lakes.
Snakes in the desert rattle and shake.
Monkeys swing around in the trees.
From flowers pollen is gathered by the bees.
Now if you will kindly finish this poem on your own,
I have had enough and I am going home.
Cows happily chew the cud.
Pigs wallow in the mud.
Cats purr when they are stroked,
Salmon is expensive when it is smoked.
Giraffes never get sore throats.
Elephants do not need overcoats.
Wolves howl at the moon.
Turtledoves never swoon.
Ducks swim in rivers and lakes.
Snakes in the desert rattle and shake.
Monkeys swing around in the trees.
From flowers pollen is gathered by the bees.
Now if you will kindly finish this poem on your own,
I have had enough and I am going home.
Bernard Shaw - Hills and Dales
Hills and Dales
Strolling over hills and dales,
Wandering through the land of Wales.
Groves of ash I passed on my way,
Tall trees in the wind did sway.
Ferns luscious in their coats of green,
Wild flowers many I have never seen.
A glory opening to my wondering eyes,
At each turn and bend some new surprise.
Villages enchanting to behold,
A few quite new many very old.
With here and there ruins of stone,
Reminding me that I am alone.
Alone on a journey of my choice,
Good reason for my soul to rejoice.
I realised that it soon must end,
My mind sorrowful thoughts did send.
I must return to my daily routine,
Happy and thankful for all I have seen.
Nature had shown me yet once again,
That she alone had the power to keep me sane.
Strolling over hills and dales,
Wandering through the land of Wales.
Groves of ash I passed on my way,
Tall trees in the wind did sway.
Ferns luscious in their coats of green,
Wild flowers many I have never seen.
A glory opening to my wondering eyes,
At each turn and bend some new surprise.
Villages enchanting to behold,
A few quite new many very old.
With here and there ruins of stone,
Reminding me that I am alone.
Alone on a journey of my choice,
Good reason for my soul to rejoice.
I realised that it soon must end,
My mind sorrowful thoughts did send.
I must return to my daily routine,
Happy and thankful for all I have seen.
Nature had shown me yet once again,
That she alone had the power to keep me sane.
Bernard Shaw - Hibiscus Flowers
Hibiscus Flowers
Hibiscus Flowers where ever I look,
Reds and blues and the pretty white,
Freshly taken from a picture book,
They fill me with great delight.
Indoor Hibiscus Flowers delicate yellow,
Potted plants in my snug flat,
Great beauty that turns me mellow,
To all Gardeners I take off my hat.
The hibiscus is a flower to please,
Grown in a warm and temperate clime.
Reds, blues and whites do tease,
With glowing colours so sublime.
Hibiscus Flowers where ever I look,
Reds and blues and the pretty white,
Freshly taken from a picture book,
They fill me with great delight.
Indoor Hibiscus Flowers delicate yellow,
Potted plants in my snug flat,
Great beauty that turns me mellow,
To all Gardeners I take off my hat.
The hibiscus is a flower to please,
Grown in a warm and temperate clime.
Reds, blues and whites do tease,
With glowing colours so sublime.
Bernard Shaw - Heroes
Heroes
The heroes in my Hall Of fame,
Are just ordinary people without a name.
The Lady that wiped away my tears,
The man that calmed my imaginary fears.
You who helped me when I was down,
Your smiles, That wiped away my frown.
You that comforted a lonely child,
Who's only feeling a hate so wild.
You that showed me a world of love and care,
Taught me to live and how to share.
You all will be in my Hall Of Fame,
Just Ordinary People without a name.
The heroes in my Hall Of fame,
Are just ordinary people without a name.
The Lady that wiped away my tears,
The man that calmed my imaginary fears.
You who helped me when I was down,
Your smiles, That wiped away my frown.
You that comforted a lonely child,
Who's only feeling a hate so wild.
You that showed me a world of love and care,
Taught me to live and how to share.
You all will be in my Hall Of Fame,
Just Ordinary People without a name.
Bernard Shaw -
Haircut
The Barber came to cut my hair,
I told him that it wasn't fair.
My hair had done him no harm,
Without it I would loose my charm.
The Barber he grinned a silly grin,
Said to cut my hair would be no sin.
That I should face it like a man,
But I'm a coward and away I ran.
Do you like sitting in a Barbers chair,
With him chopping away your lovely hair.
Once my head was full of curls,
Covering my face with twisty twirls.
But then the Barber came my way,
I was a child, I had no say.
Off came my curls one by one,
The Barber seemed to have great fun.
Now I'm old and very grey,
I'm nearly bald, my hairs gone away.
But when I see a Barbers chair,
I feel the loss of my curly hair.
You know I truly rue the day,
When that first Barber came my way.
The Barber came to cut my hair,
I told him that it wasn't fair.
My hair had done him no harm,
Without it I would loose my charm.
The Barber he grinned a silly grin,
Said to cut my hair would be no sin.
That I should face it like a man,
But I'm a coward and away I ran.
Do you like sitting in a Barbers chair,
With him chopping away your lovely hair.
Once my head was full of curls,
Covering my face with twisty twirls.
But then the Barber came my way,
I was a child, I had no say.
Off came my curls one by one,
The Barber seemed to have great fun.
Now I'm old and very grey,
I'm nearly bald, my hairs gone away.
But when I see a Barbers chair,
I feel the loss of my curly hair.
You know I truly rue the day,
When that first Barber came my way.
Bernard Shaw - Gossips
Gossips
Some twenty houses all in a row.
They gossip all day long you know.
As I go past the garden gates,
To visit the pub and see my mates.
The windows whisper, 'There he goes,
No wonder he's got such a shiny red nose.'
'He's the biggest boozer in the road,
He even beats old Mother Joad,
She can down a pint of gin,
And ask for more with a silly grin.'
The chimneys you can hear above them all,
There he goes, He's heading for a fall.
Why cant he drink his beer at home,
But a pints not the same without its foam.
Even the roofs pour on the oil,
It really makes my poor blood boil.
My own front door gives me no peace,
Threatens to go and call the Police.
I've even thought of moving away.
It matters not what others say.
But I always seem to be in the wrong.
Perhaps the beer is a little too strong.
You know I don't want to leave my road.
My drinking doesn't bother Mrs. Joad.
As for the houses, what do you think,
Do they have to pay for what I drink.
You know if the windows weren't so clean.
They wouldn't know where I have been.
I'm going to get Parliament to make a law,
That windows are not to be cleaned anymore.
Then perhaps I can drink my beer in peace.
Without my front door threatening to call the Police.
Some twenty houses all in a row.
They gossip all day long you know.
As I go past the garden gates,
To visit the pub and see my mates.
The windows whisper, 'There he goes,
No wonder he's got such a shiny red nose.'
'He's the biggest boozer in the road,
He even beats old Mother Joad,
She can down a pint of gin,
And ask for more with a silly grin.'
The chimneys you can hear above them all,
There he goes, He's heading for a fall.
Why cant he drink his beer at home,
But a pints not the same without its foam.
Even the roofs pour on the oil,
It really makes my poor blood boil.
My own front door gives me no peace,
Threatens to go and call the Police.
I've even thought of moving away.
It matters not what others say.
But I always seem to be in the wrong.
Perhaps the beer is a little too strong.
You know I don't want to leave my road.
My drinking doesn't bother Mrs. Joad.
As for the houses, what do you think,
Do they have to pay for what I drink.
You know if the windows weren't so clean.
They wouldn't know where I have been.
I'm going to get Parliament to make a law,
That windows are not to be cleaned anymore.
Then perhaps I can drink my beer in peace.
Without my front door threatening to call the Police.
Bernard Shaw - Gold
Gold
At the bottom of a Rainbow, So I'm told,
If I look carefully, I will find some Gold.
I am a little disconcerted as my poem will show,
For each Rainbow that I come to, moves away you know.
And the closer that I get to the promised treasure,
Other things that I see give me more pleasure.
Like tiny drops of rain on leaf and flower,
Or the sweet smells, I smell after a shower.
The song of a Bird high in a tree,
Is a fascinating reward for a man like me.
A thought has come to me it is very profound,
Who has so much gold to bury in the ground.
But the birds in the trees and the drops of rain,
These common treasures, they come again and again.
So I will look for a rainbow high in the sky,
But for buried Gold in the ground, not a tear will I cry.
At the bottom of a Rainbow, So I'm told,
If I look carefully, I will find some Gold.
I am a little disconcerted as my poem will show,
For each Rainbow that I come to, moves away you know.
And the closer that I get to the promised treasure,
Other things that I see give me more pleasure.
Like tiny drops of rain on leaf and flower,
Or the sweet smells, I smell after a shower.
The song of a Bird high in a tree,
Is a fascinating reward for a man like me.
A thought has come to me it is very profound,
Who has so much gold to bury in the ground.
But the birds in the trees and the drops of rain,
These common treasures, they come again and again.
So I will look for a rainbow high in the sky,
But for buried Gold in the ground, not a tear will I cry.
Bernard Shaw - Ghosts
Ghosts
In my house there lives some ghosts,
Mischief is their second name.
They always seem to be drinking toasts,
Usually from my best champagne.
I cannot say they are as drunk as Lords,
For that would be going too far,
But I fear they often rattle their swords,
As they stand around in my bar.
They tell some pretty tall tales,
Of things that happened in the past.
Then they break out into piteous wails,
For even my stocks of champagne will not last.
I await the day when I can join the throng,
For I too have many a tale to tell,
I will drink and join in with a song.
For I have a voice as sweet as a bell,
I hope the new owner has a taste for beer,
For that is my favourite drink you know.
Then above my wails I will give a cheer,
As the beer slowly down my gullet does go.
I do not mind the Ghosts in my house,
They give the place quite an air,
I will act as quiet as a mouse,
As long as I get my fair share.
The ghosts have been there for as long as I can remember,
They treat my house as their own,
They can stay from January to December,
And call my house their home.
In my house there lives some ghosts,
Mischief is their second name.
They always seem to be drinking toasts,
Usually from my best champagne.
I cannot say they are as drunk as Lords,
For that would be going too far,
But I fear they often rattle their swords,
As they stand around in my bar.
They tell some pretty tall tales,
Of things that happened in the past.
Then they break out into piteous wails,
For even my stocks of champagne will not last.
I await the day when I can join the throng,
For I too have many a tale to tell,
I will drink and join in with a song.
For I have a voice as sweet as a bell,
I hope the new owner has a taste for beer,
For that is my favourite drink you know.
Then above my wails I will give a cheer,
As the beer slowly down my gullet does go.
I do not mind the Ghosts in my house,
They give the place quite an air,
I will act as quiet as a mouse,
As long as I get my fair share.
The ghosts have been there for as long as I can remember,
They treat my house as their own,
They can stay from January to December,
And call my house their home.
Bernard Shaw - Gentle Child
Gentle Child
Gentle Child of loves sweet passions,
Bring happiness to this loving pair.
Let both have bounding compassion,
Through that childhood that both do share.
Love and laughter be always with you,
Parental strength guide your faltering way.
Happy tears like fresh morning dew,
Will help you on life's path to stay.
A Mother's love a Father's care by day and by night,
Will help you grow into a child to bring joyful delight.
Thrive Gentle child born of loves sweet passion,
Thrive, grow strong, and fulfil your purpose in living.
Remember your childhood's parental compassion,
And live your life in joyful giving.
Gentle Child of loves sweet passions,
Bring happiness to this loving pair.
Let both have bounding compassion,
Through that childhood that both do share.
Love and laughter be always with you,
Parental strength guide your faltering way.
Happy tears like fresh morning dew,
Will help you on life's path to stay.
A Mother's love a Father's care by day and by night,
Will help you grow into a child to bring joyful delight.
Thrive Gentle child born of loves sweet passion,
Thrive, grow strong, and fulfil your purpose in living.
Remember your childhood's parental compassion,
And live your life in joyful giving.
Bernard Shaw - Full Speed
Full Speed
Please slow down, Take things easy,
Going too fast makes one feel queasy.
No one can enjoy a life that is too fast,
Sometimes it is better to be late and come in last.
Than to go at full speed all day long,
When you go too fast things can go wrong.
A slow walk is better than haste,
You have more time for things of your taste.
Remember the Tortoise and the Hare,
Do not be in a hurry to do more than your share.
The thing I am trying to say please heed,
It is easier to go slowly than at full speed.
Please slow down, Take things easy,
Going too fast makes one feel queasy.
No one can enjoy a life that is too fast,
Sometimes it is better to be late and come in last.
Than to go at full speed all day long,
When you go too fast things can go wrong.
A slow walk is better than haste,
You have more time for things of your taste.
Remember the Tortoise and the Hare,
Do not be in a hurry to do more than your share.
The thing I am trying to say please heed,
It is easier to go slowly than at full speed.
Bernard Shaw - Flowers
Flowers
A window box full of flowers,
They are such a lovely treat.
I gaze at them for hours,
For they are extra sweet.
I bought young plants from a gardening store.
And planted them close together,
Now they grow more and more,
They are out in every weather.
Some are white some are blue,
Others with colours galore,
Most will see the summer through,
Not one will be a bore.
People on the street stop to have a look,
I hear comments of heartfelt pleasure.
My flowers are better than a book,
In fact they are my one great treasure.
A window box full of flowers,
They are such a lovely treat.
I gaze at them for hours,
For they are extra sweet.
I bought young plants from a gardening store.
And planted them close together,
Now they grow more and more,
They are out in every weather.
Some are white some are blue,
Others with colours galore,
Most will see the summer through,
Not one will be a bore.
People on the street stop to have a look,
I hear comments of heartfelt pleasure.
My flowers are better than a book,
In fact they are my one great treasure.
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