Fa – the Green Dragon

A Place for the Odd Musings of an Expat Bristolian


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the Three R’s (a new take)

THE THREE R’s (a new take)

I cannot tell you what joy it is to write words down in rhyme;

The practice perfected in past medieval times.

Court jesters, Rhymesters, bards and gleemen all trained in how to tell

In epic ways, of battles in which their heroes fell.

Tales of glory handed down from father then to son;

But nowadays we do it, just because it’s fun.

Poems are but retellings, of things we live in life.

Of new-found love and sometimes alas, about a shrewish wife.

Of many things that ail us and the past which brought us pain

But looking on the bright side, the things we’d do again.

We also know of joy and happiness galore

We’ll never know for certain though if we don’t pass through that door.

And therein lies the rub; holding back to no avail.

So take the chance, just sally forth, like a galleon under sail.

I start by simply sitting, day-dreaming of my youth

Then with a pen and paper I go about my proof.

It takes a bit of thinking and lots of trial and error

But after words are changed about it soon looks much the fairer.

There are many rules for poetry, which happily we ignore

Nothing would get written if we did not, of that I am quite sure.

A little trick I find, is to write then walk away;

Save what I’ve written in a drawer until another day.

I also find that reading, works of every kind

Helps to order random thoughts that run throughout my mind.

Why don’t you join me, share in all my joy?

Start by sitting down to play with words just like a toy.

Maybe then you will find out that what I say is true

But Reading, Riting and Rhymatic is entirely up to you.


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Mea Culpa, carpe Diem, Etcetera

There was a time when still at school

At Latin I was such a fool.

And when it came to noun declensions

I was quickly ordered to detention

And there watched by a cap and gown

I wrote the conjugations down

Amo, Amas, Amat.

I did not love and that was that.

I asked what’s all the fuss

Why me Lord, Quid mihi Dominus?

And all that He would ever say,

Oramus, oramus let us pray

And so it was on bended knee

I offered up my only plea:

Quare hoc malum why is this bad?

I felt like I had been had.

I saw no purpose in this dead lingo

Can you imagine Roman Bingo?

Duos dominarum, two fat ladies, eighty-eight,

Nunc finis, end this now, I cannot wait

Then one day the course was switched

And Latin learning could be ditched.

But what that made me I am unsure.

Vox et praeterea nihil, a voice and nothing more