It's Thursday again? Time for some Tolkien, I think. I keep trying to learn this one... he was so good with nature topics and alliteration both.

Cat
by J.R.R. Tolkien

The fat cat on the mat
may seem to dream
of nice mice that suffice
for him, or cream;
but he free, maybe,
walks in thought
unbowed, proud, where loud
roared and fought
his kin, lean and slim,
or deep in den
in the East feasted on beasts
and tender men.

The giant lion with iron
claw in paw
and huge ruthless tooth
in gory jaw;
the pard dark-starred,
that oft soft from aloft
leaps on his meat
where woods loom in gloom -
far now they be,
fierce and free,
and tamed is he;
but fat cat on the mat,
kept as a pet,
he does not forget.
Good grief, these weeks go by so fast! (Sorry I've been all disappeared lately... got kind of a busy RL. The sort that makes me glad it's Thursday so I can think of something to post besides complaining about my life.)

However, it is a beautiful day outside, so here is a poem about what I want to be doing instead of what I am doing. ;D

Out on the Road
by John Masefield

It is good to be out on the road and going one knows not where,
Going through meadow and village, one knows not whither nor why,
Through the grey light drift of the dust, in the keen cool rush of the air,
Under the flying white clouds and the broad blue lift of the sky,

And to halt by the chattering brook, in the tall green fern at the brink,
Where the harebell grows, and the gorse, and the foxgloves purple and white;
Where the shy-eyed delicate deer troop down to the pools to drink
When the stars are mellow and large at the coming on of the night.

O! to feel the warmth of the rain and the homely smell of the earth
Is a tune for the blood to jig to, a joy past power of words,
And the blessed green comely meadows seem all a-ripple with mirth
At the lilt of the shifting feet, and the dear wild cry of the birds.
Thursday! Poem!

Seal Lullaby
by Rudyard Kipling

O hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us
And black are the waters that sparkled so green;
The moon o'er the combers looks downward to find us
Asleep in the hollows that rustle between.
Where billow meets billow, there soft be thy pillow;
Ah, weary wee flipperling, curl at thy ease!
The storm shall not wake thee, nor shark overtake thee,
Asleep in the arms of the slow-swinging seas.



(I do so love my Kipling... I think if I ever buy a Complete Poems it'll be his. So, so awesome.)
Another poetry post... I think I might do this once a week. There's so much lovely poetry in the world to share, both the miles of it already inside my head and the bunches I still need to learn.

Whence, this poem. ;-)

An Overworked Elocutionist
by Carolyn Bailey Wells

Once there was a little boy whose name was Robert Reese,
And every Friday afternoon he had to speak a piece.
So many poems thus he learned that soon he had a score
Of recitations in his head, and still kept learning more.

Now this is what happened: he was called upon one week
And totally forgot the piece he was about to speak.
His brain he cudgelled; not a word remained within his head!
And so he spoke at random, and this is what he said.

"My beautiful, my beautiful, that standest proudly by,
It was the schooner Hesperus! the breaking waves dashed high!
Why is this forum crowded? What means this stir in Rome?
Under a spreading chestnut tree, there is no place like home!

"When freedom from her mountain height cried 'Twinkle, little star',
Shoot if you must this old gray head, King Henry of Navarre!
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue castled crag of Drachenfels;
My name is Norval - on the Grampian heights, ring out, wild bells!

"If you're waking, call me early, to be or not to be,
Curfew must not ring tonight! O woodman, spare that tree!
Charge, Chester, charge! On, Stanley, on! and let who will be clever,
The boy stood on the burning deck, but I go on for ever!"

His elocution was superb, his voice and gestures fine;
His schoolmates all applauded as he finished the last line.
"I see it doesn't matter," Robert thought, "what words I say,
So long as I declaim with oratorical display."


(Better yet, I found a web page that hyperlinks each quotation here to the poem it originally came from! *squee*)
... Alfred Noyes was awesome. I'm not so fond of "The Highwayman" because I read it with illustrations in ghastly pale green, but "Forty Singing Seamen" is fun, and "The Admiral's Ghost" is one of my favorite poems ever. (I don't have it memorized, unfortunately. Yet.) And The Secret of Pooduck Island is right up there with The Lord of the Rings on the very short list of books I'd pay retail for.

Anyway, here is one of his shorter poems. Because I am bored and do not feel like writing about my least favorite episode of Bonanza. (I might skip that question.)

St George and the Dragon
by Alfred Noyes

St George he slew the dragon,
But he didn't shout hurray.
He dumped it in the wagon
Just to clear the mess away.

But the wagoner he sold it
To a showman at the Fair,
And when St George was told it
He was almost in despair.

For the people crowded round it
To admire its teeth and claws,
But St George he was an Englishman
And did not like applause.

"The creechah weighed a ton at most,"
He muttered through his vizahd.
"I do not feel inclined to boast
About that puny lizahd."
This tale grew in the telling, as a very wise man said on another occasion...

I was just going to post a couple of pictures from (I think) "Around the World Under the Sea", as a special Christmas treat for [livejournal.com profile] illyushadarling  because she isn't feeling well (to put it mildly.) And then I started thinking a bit of a personalized caption or some such might be nice. This is the final result.

To recap a bit (ooh, was that a pun?): Illyushadarling's post yesterday, informing us that she couldn't post screencaps because she had a nasty stomach bug, began something like this:



'Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring
Except for illyushadarling puking her guts out.


Not pretty, but expressive. Being the sort of person who is plot-bunnied - or in this case, picspam-bunnied - by the oddest things, I bring the much pleasanter tale of what happened next. With lots of large pictures, so it's under the cut.

Right this way... )

Also the swimtrunks!DMc pictures I promised - found for me by [livejournal.com profile] periwinkle27  on DavidMcCallumFansOnline - plus a totally gratuitous shot of Steel I bagged from [livejournal.com profile] sarlania because I cannot resist this man in blue plaid flannel.

Another cut... )

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