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Author?
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Thread taking a grim turn. Time to lighten it up! I'm finding Ogden Nash a "like him or not" poet. Some are silly (which was his intention), which isn't so much to my liking. (But I do admire that he once found a rhyme for "boomerang", even if it was a silly one!) The Asp Whenever I behold an asp I can't suppress a startled gasp, I do not charge the asp with matricide, But what about his Cleopatricide?
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Ha. Thanks David. That David does not know it's me, Makes me think that it is plain to see, Perhaps I could, but did not know it, Have been, perchance, a blummin poet. We don't pay you enough, Kev!
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Another Nash For a Good Dog My little dog ten years ago Was arrogant and spry, Her backbone was bended bow for arrows in her eye. Her step was proud, her bark was loud, Her nose was in the sky, But she was ten years younger then, And so, by God, was I. Small birds on stilts along the beach Rose up with piping cry, And as they flashed beyond her reach I thought to see her fly. If natural law refused her wings, That law she would defy, For she could do unheard of things, And so, at times, could I. [There's a final stanza; I encourage you to visit your local library to find it. It was in the collection called "Versus"]
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Anybody know what "Burma Shave" was? It was a shaving cream advertised very famously through poems posted by roads, one stanza per sign, each a distance apart. The topics mostly had to do with shaving, not shaving, or road safety. I'll post one here in the same, broken-up fashion.
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When you drive
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If caution ceases
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You are apt
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To rest in pieces
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Burma Shave
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ONLY 4 MORE DAYS TO POST POEMS!
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The Thunder God went for a ride upon his favourite filly. “I’m Thor!” he cried; the horse replied “You forgot your thaddle, thilly.” You make me laugh almost as much as The Earl of Poncey!
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The spring is sprung, The grass is riz. I wonder where the boidies is. The little boids is on the wing. Naa, dats obsoid; The little wings is on the boids. You're catching up to how much The EOP and Lord Castlemouldy make me laugh!
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Minutes away from your last chance to post during Poetry Month.
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No lady likes
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