h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

All around there's a sudden hush before the song thrush
starts singing from my back garden blush pink coloured rose bush
and it looks very pretty and is very plush
takes it's time and is never in a mad rush
and when it sings gushes with a great deal of emotion
where time flows in slow motion and acting as barrier to all noise and commotion.

I used to think that my blackbird friend
Sang for the very joy of it
Now I know that his song will very soon end
If a girl doesn't hear the boy in it.

In summer he grows yellow rings around his eyes
And his feathers are shiny and sleak
If she turns him down you can hear his sighs
And the sounds from his beak grow weak.

'tis the truth, in my youth I'd a powerful voice
And I sang to the girls in all weathers
I'm not seen now, alas, with the lass of my choice
Nor seen sporting and preening my feathers.

Your work brings a lump to my throat.
You're justified if you gloat.

Dan drinks beer out from a can
given to him by Stan out from his van
in payment for dancing the can can
and is member of the musical hall clan
who's members eat food enriched with bran
especially on quiches and fruit flans.

I see many clouds at different levels
Some of them rain clouds, those black hearted devils
But some of them light, all fluffy and white
All in all it's a beautiful sight
The wind is quite lively, and my hollyhocks
Sway as in dancing, and my laundered socks
Have joined in the jig, they too dance on the line
The overall spectacle is really quite fine
It's time for this old man to take to the streets
To smile at the cars and the busses he meets
He'll jump on the nearest red bus he can reach
In a brace of fine shakes he'll be down on the beach
Then he'll sit and he'll muse at the money he saves
By counting his change, and then counting the waves.

Ten green bottles are hanging on the wall
in preparation for the Grand Ball
where it always ends up in a brawl
with some joining their friends in a pub crawl
knocking into market stalls and enthralling listeners with their drawl.

A day at the races, a night at the beach.
I bet on the wrong horse. Oh, life is a peach.

Searching through the kitbag of my mind
Never knowing just what I might find
My stubby fingers poised above the keys
I count them: still ten; this seems to please
Nothing yet, soon I will find a thought
Of some past battle that I faught
Things I saved to remind me of the fray
Fighters are well known to act this way.

The soldier; for him the heat of battle lingers
In his kitbag; a collection of his victim's fingers.

Got lost in the maze when I was going through a funny phase
from eating too much maize and playing billiards on a green baize
table when sitting on a long chaise and singing praises for Will Hay
who has never been known to go astray not even for a sorbet
or a souffle when offered at a buffet at the soiree ran by Ray
who always wears grey coloured clothes and travels by sleigh
and is an expert in dancing ballet and has his own singing toupee.

Haven't thought about kitbags in years.
They were immortalized in song in the Great War.
Nothing came out of that conflict but tears.
Oh, who can explain what it was all for?

Fight the Good Fight
By all means do
Of all the wars they ever fought
The Great War killed more than a few
It was to be The War to end all wars
Stuck in a muddy trench for months, quite forgeting the cause.
Your Country Needs You was the call
Both sides saw many a young man fall
Good men and true fighting till they drop
Waiting for the final order, "Over the top!".

If only Franz Ferdinand never got crowned the Archduke
which really should not have happened as it was a fluke
due to the Franz Joseph 1 demise of his son Rudolf, the crown prince
with the events of his death hushed up which would have made the people wince
who was going to accede his father if he had never died
and there would have never been the Great War which spread worldwide
and the Spanish Influenza outbreak would not have spread so quickly
reaching so many lands with many people dying and becoming sickly.
Even now the repercussions are still being felt today
with the many middle-eastern conflicts which has caused much sorrow and dismay.

Tragic death
In a hunting lodge
In Vienna Wood.
Rudolph's last breath
Meant we'd not dodge
A war and loss of blood.

At the hour of prime (9 am) it's time to remove all the grime
with a mixture of salt, vinegar, soda bicarbonate and lime
mixed in water in a bucket taken from the river Tyne
whilst drinking a glass of on a fine clear day with sunshine
gathering various wild herbs which includes bunches of thyme
listening to the Town Hall clock chiming as I begin to climb
to go and align all the ley lines with pieces of twine.

The bees went about their usual bee business.
My flowers swayed slightly under bumblebee heft.
With little to do, my life was a mess.
I'd have even *less* to do after they left.

Bees like to tease those who addicted to eating cheddar cheese
by sneezing all over their garden peas and swinging on a trapeze
wearing a silk chemise and giggling at them when they are work on their pc's
or when there is a fresh sea breeze to ask them to say please when playing their music cd's.

Metrical yarn
Fuzzy frizz, fruzzy fizz, ziffy zurf
In the sock hideaway
Down the alley
And across the potato vineyard.

[....W B Yeats and T S Eliot no longer rhyme, but M Twain and J F Craine still do...]

Bale fully and wear a small,
as small as can be, bean can.
For serious and transcendent as
Laughing and fish, super, she said.
Delight, out, out beef curry.

Down tracks, trax, down oppressive
Rights and rungs, climbing, Susan,
black eyed, peace be with
you. Like a one legged cat,
Roofed, or a hearing aid, smoked.

I deserved that
And so did my cat.