Fa – the Green Dragon

A Place for the Odd Musings of an Expat Bristolian

Category Archives: Philosophical view


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Boiled Eggs Make Me Smile

We’ve all had one I know for sure

For morning hunger it’s just the cure.

Ovum Coctum   is what it’s named

A food for breakfast highly famed

It comes in white and also brown

From the country not from town

Caesar’s legions ate them on the march

Lots of protein but zero starch

They make good picnic fare as well

All that goodness in a shell

They’re good for lunches on the go

After many years this much I know

You can eat them hot or eat them cold

Either way they’re good and bold

When you eat one with a spoon

A few quick bites it’s finished soon

But when you reach the empty bottom

There are souls at sea who are oft forgotten

So turn the shell upside down

And wear a smile not a frown

give the shell just one more crack

As though it had its contents back

And say a little prayer with me

For all the sailors out at sea.

You’ll save a soul from drowning.

Which is why you smile instead of frowning.


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The Burnham Light

The Burnham Light

Peering through the darkness and descending fog

We see the Burnham Light

It will surely guide us

On this frightful night.

It’s a welcome beacon that we see,

 off our starboard side.

We start our final homeward stretch

Upon the rising tide.

At Avon’s estuary we sound

Two blasts upon our horn

But there is no returning sound to us,

 on this cold and wintry morn.

Slow steam ahead the captain calls

And through telegraph relayed

And in the engine room below

Slow steam ahead displayed.

The engines go quite quiet,

Just the surf we hear.

As through the mist we forge ahead

Our hearts filled with fear.

The cold night air upon the deck

Chills one to the liver.

Upon the bridge, a friendly smile

Hello captain, my name’s Tom

Your pilot for the river.

We enter in the stream

Green and red lights in our spotlight beam

Steady on the port side Sir

And slow astern I deem.

Our vessel she’s the Monterrey

And she has served us well

With St. Brendan as our guide

She’s brought us through the swell.

The worst is Biscay bay

When storms come from the west

The back of our old vessel

Is put unto the test.

But now we approach home port

And hearts we left behind.

This sailing an adventure;

No regrets for which I signed.

I’ve got my book and pay galore

And glad to step ashore

But I know that in a week or two

My heart will yearn for more.


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Just Writing Nonsense

Last night, as I lay sleeping;

A thought ran through my head.

Shall I write more haiku or try some rhyme instead? 

And so with plume in hand and ink pot close nearby,

Sand caster at the ready to ensure my ink would dry.

I began. By the light of the silvery moon to let words fall,

Simply where they may. My word there were so many;

I had so much to say.  

I wrote throughout the night, until the sun did rise.

But there before me on my desk, blank paper nothing else.

Just empty sheets there were no words, I’d dreamed it by myself. 

Now, awake with firm resolve, I write a few words down.

However, I cannot think at all;

I have a writer’s block. My brain’s not on the ball  

With eyes wide open I now will try,

I have to take the plunge.

Sadly I realize the truth, there is no word,

 That nicely rhymes with orange.

I think I’m going to cry. 

At that, I balance my sand caster

On the center of my head.

Where I am sure, if it should fall

Will dry my tears instead.