THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.

Poem 204 of 230:  ON FISHING REGULATION

It’s not just what’s taken
    That needs regulation:
Alive, caught fish suffer -
    Sometimes, right till supper;
And, when some fish are farmed,
    Homing instincts are harmed.
But to most it’s insane
    To fret over such pain -
Though as much to a dog
    Would leave many agog.

From http://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com


On Jun 7, 10:12 am, walkaboutsverse  wrote:
> THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> Poem 229 of 230:  JOYS OF LIFE
>
> Leightons, and other great art;
>     Plumes of fireworks at night;
> The vivid reds of sunrise -
>     Repeated at day’s last light.
>
> The beats through us of a drum;
>     Winter’s sun felt through closed glass;
> Handing in the last exam;
>     Awakenings – alarmless!
>
> The ball off thee whacks their net;
>     When to palms leather has stuck;
> Orange juice during half-time;
>     A warm bath to wash the muck.
>
> Viewing set-over cricket;
>     A golf ball, for once, well struck;
> Viewing velodrome cycling;
>     From net-chord, levelling luck!
>
> Sticks, chants, didgeridoo,
>     Haunting harps, and all bagpipes;
> Clog, flamenco, tamure,
>     Hula, and other dance types.
>
> Out, by a cast, being told;
>     In - taking tea and T.V.;
> Highland views that command rest;
>     The buildings of Italy.
>
> Thrifty plant-propagation;
>     By a wave one’s body hit;
> Upstream of camp - with paddle;
>     By a fire - strongly lit.
>
> Forest spent-leaves under foot;
>     Tasting a host-nation’s fare;
> Alcedo atthis at work;
>     Just bills being brought to bear.
>
> Allegros when feeling low;
>     An andante to wind down;
> Spoken French and chorused song;
>     The quiet when out of town.
>
> A stroll through a kept garden,
>     Before Sunday’s roast dinner;
> A pub game, drink and meal;
>     One’s team a comeback winner.
>
> Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
>
> On May 31, 11:09 am, walkaboutsverse  wrote:
>
>
>
> > THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> > Poem 112 of 230:  FROM AN ECCLES FLAT - SPRING 2000
>
> > The bedroom window’s southerly views
> >     Contained allotters paying their dues -
> > All kinds of veg. brought to fruition,
> >     And youngsters receiving tuition;
> > Starlings and sparrows I’d often see -
> >     On a roof or a nearby tree;
> > And, in a distant poplar perched high,
> >     The large twiggy nest of a magpie;
> > In spring, daisies would yellow the floor -
> >     Matched by Forsythias, grown next door;
> > Behind terraces, a moony crest -
> >     The Dome of the new Trafford complex;
> > And the moon itself, in the right spot,
> >     Would light the night’s clouds up quite a lot.
>
> > The kitchen window’s northerly views
> >     Included an agent selling news;
> > A butcher struggling with position -
> >     Much sunlight aimed at his nutrition;
> > And a popular English chippie -
> >     Mashed peas and red sauce on top, for me;
> > White gulls dotting a sombre grey sky,
> >     Plus light- and large-aircraft flying by;
> > Walkers and traffic would make a roar -
> >     At peak travel hours all the more;
> > Handsomely-set skies toward the west
> >     As the day’s sun took its nightly rest;
> > And a bucket-pond and ivy plot,
> >     That, on a shoestring, I loved a lot.
>
> > Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
>
> > On May 23, 7:08 pm, walkaboutsverse  wrote:
>
> > > THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G
>
> > > (A tad early this time, as I'm off to the Hexham Gathering tomorrow.)
>
> > > Poem-come-song 111 of 230: THE MERSEY AT DIDSBURY - SPRING 2000
>
> > > Took bus one-four-three,
> > >     From Piccadilly,
> > > Along Oxford Road;
> > >     Passed the old uni’s,
> > > Those shops with saris,
> > >     And my first abode.
>
> > > At Didsbury Village,
> > >     The Old Parsonage
> > > Looked neat, and gave sound,
> > >     As I walked the way,
> > > At about midday,
> > >     To a Mersey mound.
>
> > > From atop this bank,
> > >     No longer a blank
> > > Was the strong river,
> > >     Nor the wide fairways -
> > > Where I’d filled two days,
> > >     Twelve years earlier.
>
> > > I then headed back,
> > >     On Stenner Woods’ track
> > > (Hearing more birdsong,
> > >     And seeing mossed stumps
> > > Plus well-layered clumps),
> > >     To a human throng.
>
> > > This throng was viewing -
> > >     Justly pursuing -
> > > The smart Rock Gardens,
> > >     Sloped on Fletcher Moss,
> > > Which I, too, did cross,
> > >     Before homeward wends.
>
> > > Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
>
> > > On May 10, 10:14 am, walkaboutsverse  wrote:> > > > THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> > > > With talk about the unbeatable "big four" in our news, it's worth
> > > > remembering that, not so long ago, club football in England was mostly-
> > > > locals in MEANIGFUL competition...
>
> > > > Poem 98 of 230:  REREGULATE
>
> > > > One Premier world-eleven v.
> > > >     Another such company,
> > > > Or wage-caps and say half each-club’s squad
> > > >     From the local-junior pod?
> > > > And, perhaps, heed the cricket-fan's call
> > > >     To convert to county-football..?
>
> > > > Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
>
> > > > On May 3, 9:25 am, walkaboutsverse  wrote:> > > > > THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> > > > > With local elections just held here in England, my outlook remains> > > > > much the same...
>
> > > > > Poem 135 of 230:  ON THE 2001 ELECTION
>
> > > > > Morally Tory;
> > > > >     Economically
> > > > > Old Labour:
> > > > >     Cold waiver.
>
> > > > > Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
>
> > > > > On Apr 26, 4:13 pm, walkaboutsverse  wrote:
>
> > > > > > THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> > > > > > (About 20 years ago, I was passing through Checkpoint Charlie.)
>
> > > > > > Poem 17 of 230: THROUGH WHAT WAS
>
> > > > > > During Europe’s summer, ‘88,
> > > > > >     At a wall my bag was checked:
> > > > > > A brief smile at what gave it weight;
> > > > > >     Sun-cream lid back - mood unwrecked.
> > > > > > I walked past plain buildings and cars,
> > > > > >     And entered a small food-store.
> > > > > > Its goods were plain, also: no sweet bars;
> > > > > >     The essentials - not much more.
> > > > > > As I bought crispbread, with money changed,
> > > > > >     A row began, at counter,
> > > > > > Between two, it seemed, Germans estranged -
> > > > > >     Clothes, to me, the sole pointer.
> > > > > > I headed back through the wall that was,
> > > > > >     Then signed a reunion book.
> > > > > > Reflecting, I’m happy/sad because
> > > > > >     The Left-cause, too, has been shook.
>
> > > > > > (C) David Franks 2003
>
> > > > > > Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
>
> > > > > > On Apr 19, 11:07 am, walkaboutsverse  wrote:
>
> > > > > > > THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> > > > > > > (They say most attempts at commedy are aimed at someone - here I aim
> > > > > > > squarely at myself.)
>
> > > > > > > Poem 14 of 230:  NIGHT OR DAY?
>
> > > > > > > In the far north of Sweden,
> > > > > > >     A "Land of the Midnight Sun,”
> > > > > > > A strange thing chanced upon me -
> > > > > > >     And I’ll tell you, just for fun.
>
> > > > > > > Got off a train late-morning
> > > > > > >     (Had to catch same one next day)
> > > > > > > And trudged far to the Youth Hostel -
> > > > > > >     Paying for a one-night stay.
>
> > > > > > > I spent the afternoon sightseeing,
> > > > > > >     Then, after a latish dinner,
> > > > > > > Returned to my own small bedroom -
> > > > > > >     The comfy bed proving a winner.
>
> > > > > > > For I soon dozed into dreamy sleep -
> > > > > > >     Waking what was just two hours hence;
> > > > > > > But my watch was an analogue,
> > > > > > >     And night or day I couldn’t sense!
>
> > > > > > > I quickly packed all my things
> > > > > > >     (My train an hour or thirteen on)
> > > > > > > And hurried out the bedroom -
> > > > > > >     The bright sky a sneaky con.
>
> > > > > > > I wandered down the track a bit -
> > > > > > >     The Hostel office empty -
> > > > > > > Before a smiling helpful local
> > > > > > >     Did kindly enlighten me.
>
> > > > > > > Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
>
> > > > > > > On Apr 12, 11:04 am, walkaboutsverse  wrote:
>
> > > > > > > > THE WEEKLY WALKABOUTS, E.G.
>
> > > > > > > > Poem 23 of 230:  ABOVE EVEREST
>
> > > > > > > > When flying from Nepal to Thailand,
> > > > > > > >     I was given a "good-side" seat;
> > > > > > > > And, as I looked out the plane window,
> > > > > > > >     The view I saw was really neat.
>
> > > > > > > > For breaking through a thick sheet of cloud
> > > > > > > >     Were the high Himalayan peaks;
> > > > > > > > And, rising the highest of them all,
> > > > > > > >     Mount Everest - heaven bespeaks!
>
> > > > > > > > Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
>
> > > > > > > > On Apr 5, 11:10 am, walkaboutsverse  wrote:
>
> > > > > > > > > THE WEEKLY WALKABOUT, E.G.
>
> > > > > > > > > After you've finished here, you may like to hear this poem sung on
> > > > > > > > > myspace.
>
> > > > > > > > > Poem 162 of 230: TEES TO TYNE: FIRST IMPRESSIONS - SUMMER 2001
>
> > > > > > > > > Where traditions are not so rare;
> > > > > > > > > Sea, country and works scent the air;
> > > > > > > > > A multitude of monuments,
> > > > > > > > > Planted tubs and patterned pavements.
>
> > > > > > > > > The longish pedestrian malls;
> > > > > > > > > The remnants of defensive walls;
> > > > > > > > > "Broken-roofed buildings" are a gauge
> > > > > > > > > Of the respect for heritage.
>
> > > > > > > > > Wheat, rape and pines in the fields;
> > > > > > > > > Estuaries guarded by shields;
> > > > > > > > > Long sandy beaches and wide scenes;
> > > > > > > > > Romantic-ruin go-betweens.
>
> > > > > > > > > Rivers in parts licked by trees,
> > > > > > > > > Or fringed by boat clubs, wharfs, gantries,
> > > > > > > > > And crossed by practical delights -
> > > > > > > > > Varied spans, forming pleasing sights.
>
> > > > > > > > > Fine churches headed at Durham;
> > > > > > > > > Football kits ad infinitum;
> > > > > > > > > Kept castles - one for study;
> > > > > > > > > Masonry behind masonry.
>
> > > > > > > > > And, with moulding-works out that way,
> > > > > > > > > It's somewhere for a longer stay..?
>
> > > > > > > > > Fromhttp://www.walkaboutsverse.741.com
>
> > > > > > > > > On Mar 29, 11:11 pm, walkaboutsverse  wrote:
>
> > > > > > > > > > Enjoyed my Saturday at the Gathering, friends, but, for better or
> > > > > > > > > > worse, I shall not be writing you any more
>
> ...
>
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