FORUMula1.com - F1 Forum

[Jabberwocky]

There was a young driver called Massa,
He had a big Crasher
The Medics gave him a plaster
and Smedly told him to go faster.

[LRW]

There once was a lass called Louise,
who’s fanny smelt like Limburger Cheese,
she leaked so much grunge,
that she purchased a sponge,
that sopped up the muck to her knees.

[What's Burning?]

I don't normally post internet memes but when I do...

[andrew]

Aunty Mary had a canary that lived up the leg of her drawers
When she farted down it darted
Looking for quieter shores

[LRW]

Lew is going to cry because we have sabotaged his thread with smut. (well, me mainly....)

[vaptin]

I'm only posting this because I failed to think up an f1 or forumula 1 limerick, and I really like the poem ever since first casually reading it in English class (we weren't studying this one).


The Little Boy Lost
'Father father, where are you going?
Oh do not walk so fast!
Speak father, speak to your little boy
Or else I shall be lost.'
The night was dark, no father was there,
The child was wet with dew;
The mire was deep, and the child did weep,
And away the vapour flew.

The Little Boy Found
The little boy lost in the lonely fen,
Led by the wand'ring light,
Began to cry; but God, ever nigh,
Appeared like his father in white.
He kissed the child, and by the hand led,
And to his mother brought,
Who in sorrow pale, through the lonely dale
Her little boy weeping sought.

William Blake

I'm not religious, but the poem is emotional and gripping in ways I don't quite understand.

[LewEngBridewell]

I'm only posting this because I failed to think up an f1 or forumula 1 limerick, and I really like the poem ever since first casually reading it in English class (we weren't studying this one).


The Little Boy Lost
'Father father, where are you going?
Oh do not walk so fast!
Speak father, speak to your little boy
Or else I shall be lost.'
The night was dark, no father was there,
The child was wet with dew;
The mire was deep, and the child did weep,
And away the vapour flew.

The Little Boy Found
The little boy lost in the lonely fen,
Led by the wand'ring light,
Began to cry; but God, ever nigh,
Appeared like his father in white.
He kissed the child, and by the hand led,
And to his mother brought,
Who in sorrow pale, through the lonely dale
Her little boy weeping sought.

William Blake

I'm not religious, but the poem is emotional and gripping in ways I don't quite understand.

Same here mate, I definitely agree, it's a beautiful poem. Thanks for sharing it

Lew is going to cry because we have sabotaged his thread with smut. (well, me mainly....)

I expected no less!

[LewEngBridewell]

Time for another smattering of Thomas Hardy, I think:


The ten hours' light is abating,
And a late bird flies across,
Where the pines, like waltzers waiting,
Give their black heads a toss.

Beech leaves, that yellow the noon-time,
Float past like specks in the eye;
I set every tree in my June time,
And now they obscure the sky.

And the children who ramble through here
Conceive that there never has been
A time when no tall trees grew here,
That none will in time be seen.

[andrew]

There was a young dentist Malone
who had a charming girl patient alone.
But in his depravity
he filled the wrong cavity,
God, how his practice has grown!

[racechick]

Jab..A couple of comments on the poems you posted..first your namesake jabberwocky. Its a great poem to use with kids to teach them to use the sound of words and to enjoy how words sound. But you know whenever I hear the words 'Slithy Toves' I just cant help thinking of jenson Button!!! Who is your Slithy Tove????

On your other poem 'If' That was the favourite poem of a race car designer friend of mine. He had it as a poster on his wall. Cant argue with its sentiments.

[andrew]

I would like to know the boundaries of this thread. Can we make it over 18's only?

I've got an idea for one about a man from Nantucket, his wife and something resembling a plasterer's bucket.

Anyway in the meantime, another terrible limerick for Jabberwocky. I can't think of anything to rhyme with Jabberwocky though.

There was a forum mod called Andy
Who knew a girl called Mandy
He saw that here legs were quite bandy
But he thought that they were just dandy

[racechick]

mmmmmm! Ok......

[racechick]

Blake.
I like this one........
TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?


And I like this, Browning, when he lived in Italy and was feeling homesick. I do like Browning.

HOME THOUGHTS FROM ABROAD

Oh, to be in England
Now that April 's there,
And whoever wakes in England
Sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England—now!

And after April, when May follows,
And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows!
Hark, where my blossom'd pear-tree in the hedge
Leans to the field and scatters on the clover
Blossoms and dewdrops—at the bent spray's edge—
That 's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,
Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first fine careless rapture!
And though the fields look rough with hoary dew,
All will be gay when noontide wakes anew
The buttercups, the little children's dower
—Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!

Robert Browning

[LewEngBridewell]

I certainly have to agree with Browning there. I was talking to a friend who was auditioning for a theatrical tour of Germany, which lasts a whole year. I was telling him to imagine the feeling of landing back in Blighty afterwards. It would be tremendous!

[darwin dali]

LEW: