ONLY BECAUSE I AM FEELING OLD AND ALIENATED FROM THIS BRAVE, NEW WORLD

.

. When icicles hang by the wall

And Dick the shepherd blows his nail

And Tom bears logs into the hall

And milk comes frozen home in pail,

When blood is nipp’d and ways be foul,

Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit;

Tu-who, a merry note,

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

When all aloud the wind doth blow

And coughing drowns the parson’s saw

And birds sit brooding in the snow

And Marian’s nose looks red and raw,

When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,

Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit;

Tu-who, a merry note,

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

*******************************************************

Yeah, yeah yeah.  So it’s Shakespeare. So what.  I mean, really. So what?

.

.

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6 Responses to “ONLY BECAUSE I AM FEELING OLD AND ALIENATED FROM THIS BRAVE, NEW WORLD”

  1. you are one sick puppy, huh?

    Like

  2. You need more electronic toys. Works for me.

    Like

  3. Anna Nymous Says:

    So Shakespeare’s wonderful. But despite recent rains, at least in my neck of the woods, it is spring time. Listen to your friends. There are many birds singing merry notes, so wake up from those horrible, wonderful dreams and smell the roses, play with your toys, keel the pot.

    Like

  4. paulboylan Says:

    Oh yeah. it is Spring, isn’t it? Big Willy wrote one for that too.

    When daisies pied, and violets blue,
    And lady-smocks all silver-white,
    And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
    Do paint the meadows with delight,
    The cuckoo then, on every tree,
    Mocks married men, for thus sings he:
    ‘Cuckoo!
    Cuckoo, cuckoo!’ O word of fear,
    Unpleasing to a married ear.
    When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
    And merry larks are ploughmen’s clocks,
    When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
    And maidens bleach their summer smocks,
    The cuckoo then, on every tree,
    Mocks married men, for thus sings he:
    ‘Cuckoo!
    Cuckoo, cuckoo!’ O word of fear,
    Unpleasing to a married ear.

    I think I prefer Winter. Joan may be a bit unkempt, but at least she’s around.

    However, the best medicine for melancholy is, indeed, listening to my friends and sniffing a rose or two – which I am actually going to do the very moment after clicking on the ‘submit comment” button immediately below. My neighbor has some amazing rose bushes. And they are in full bloom.

    Like

  5. Forget dinner; ‘stir the pot’ metaphorically: mix things up, keep things active, or getting stuck to the bottom. Sorry to hear of the melancoly. Hope you enjoyed the roses, must be no deer around there, they think roses are very tasty.
    My daughter is home. Got to cook dinner.

    Like

  6. PNB–Use this electronic toy and go here:
    http://kymk.wordpress.com/2009/05/14/all-the-kings-horses-malachis-accident/
    and read the whole thing, look at the pictures.

    Sometimes life is just —- and sometimes it is beautiful.

    Like

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