While stationary in the Edinburgh rush hour traffic today, after picking up items bought on gumtree for the castle, I composed a poem in my head, Here goes ....
Kincardine, Kincardine, Forth, and Tay
These are the bridges I have crossed today
"Kincardine twice?" I hear you say
Yes, my GPS led me astray!
I have no explanation of why this popped into my head, but I do offer my humblest apologies for sharing. :-)
I should reassure readers that I am not prone to calliopean endeavour, and am thus unlikely to repeat this felony. Indeed, my last poem was three years ago, to win a friend a vacuum cleaner in a competition. While I was personally proud of my epistle in the Scottish dialect on the joys of hoovering, I suspect the only merit was thematic novelty. :-)
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ReplyDeleteBrace yourself! Here comes that poem on the joys of hoovering channelling the spirit of Robert Burns:
ReplyDeleteWee sleekit courin' bit o' stouie,
Whit's tha panic in thy breastie?
Hast thine owner a cleaner plan,
To dicht more deeply than hand of man?
A dyson, hoover, or generic vacuum.
Which brand will seal thy doom?
Can this mortal's aspirateur-ial aspirations
Overcome his closet's current denudations?
LOL at the GPS ditty. Love it!
ReplyDeleteThanks Laura for this and your other comments - it's just that no-one has complimented my poetry before, so it's an event to acknowledge! :-)
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