A Conversation for English 17th Century Nonsense Poetry

Moving love poem

Post 1


Excellent entry. There's such a fine line between nonsense and gibberish, but the thing is that nonsense is funny while gibberish is gibberish. Here's my favourite, from an anonymous author. Copied it out from one of those 'verse and worse' books years ago and it still cheers me up on every read. Actually, it's not nonsense at all, but it seems like it is.


Oh that my soul a marrow bone might seize!
For the old egg of my desire is broken,
Spilled is the pearly white and spilled the yoke,
And as the melancholy contents grease,
My path the shorn lamb baas like bumblebees.

Time's trashy purse is as a taken token
or like a thrilling recitation, spoken
by mournful mouths filled full of mirth and cheese.

And yet, why should I clasp the earthful urn?
Or find the frittered fig that felt the fast?
Or choose to chase the cheese around the churn?
Or swallow any pill from out the past?
Ah, no love, not while your kisses burn
Like a potato riding on the blast.


Moving love poem

Post 2


lovely poem - particularly the potato reference . . .


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