tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post114954937638758418..comments2024-03-29T12:10:24.356+00:00Comments on Yorkshire Pudding: "Spellbound"Yorkshire Puddinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06019673884543913089noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-1153571080664029252006-07-22T13:24:00.000+01:002006-07-22T13:24:00.000+01:00Very pretty design! Keep up the good work. Thanks....Very pretty design! Keep up the good work. Thanks.<BR/><A HREF="http://casino.we5lw.be/camel_casino_credits.html" REL="nofollow">»</A>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-1150760198165898482006-06-20T00:36:00.000+01:002006-06-20T00:36:00.000+01:00On the fair side, however, there is a way out. Whe...On the fair side, however, there is a way out. When we've made up our minds that we we're through with a vampire (and it sounds like you are), we simply revoke our invitation. That's what it's called when we tell our vampire to hit the road: "Revoking our invitation."Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-1149963125112373092006-06-10T19:12:00.000+01:002006-06-10T19:12:00.000+01:00Lovely poem. I always wondered if poets new what t...Lovely poem. I always wondered if poets new what they wanted to say in the poem before it was written or if the story just happened as the words hit the page.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-1149948110737093432006-06-10T15:01:00.000+01:002006-06-10T15:01:00.000+01:00Ars Poetica by Archibald MacLeish A poem shoul...Ars Poetica <BR/>by Archibald MacLeish <BR/><BR/> <BR/>A poem should be palpable and mute<BR/>As a globed fruit,<BR/><BR/>Dumb<BR/>As old medallions to the thumb,<BR/><BR/>Silent as the sleeve-worn stone<BR/>Of casement ledges where the moss has grown-- <BR/><BR/>A poem should be wordless<BR/>As the flight of birds.<BR/><BR/> *<BR/><BR/>A poem should be motionless in time <BR/>As the moon climbs,<BR/><BR/>Leaving, as the moon releases<BR/>Twig by twig the night-entangled trees,<BR/><BR/>Leaving, as the moon behind the winter leaves, <BR/>Memory by memory the mind--<BR/><BR/>A poem should be motionless in time <BR/>As the moon climbs.<BR/><BR/> *<BR/><BR/>A poem should be equal to:<BR/>Not true.<BR/><BR/>For all the history of grief<BR/>An empty doorway and a maple leaf.<BR/><BR/>For love<BR/>The leaning grasses and two lights above the sea--<BR/><BR/>A poem should not mean<BR/>But be.Saints and Spinnershttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04733517166056974501noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-1149873473704231382006-06-09T18:17:00.000+01:002006-06-09T18:17:00.000+01:00my bad Pudding, my computer kept telling me it did...my bad Pudding, my computer kept telling me it didn't publish.. then suddenly there were tons of them<BR/>Sorry.By Georgehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13354290886936308105noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-1149873313431583462006-06-09T18:15:00.001+01:002006-06-09T18:15:00.001+01:00I can't profess to understand it completely. It is...I can't profess to understand it completely. It is beautiful.<BR/>I heard a poem the other day in a movie, that I never heard before.<BR/>"Brown Penny". Maybe it was just the way Christopher Plummer delivered it.<BR/>As a child I used to read a book of poems my mom had, "101 Famous Poems". Really loved reading that.. in fact I used to make up songs to some of them. Lorenna McKinnet actually did publish one "The Highwayman".<BR/><BR/>Nowadays..as then it's hard for me to settle my mind to read poetry.<BR/>Anything really. I've never been able to read without skipping around.<BR/>Possibly some time of attention deficit, but anyway here is one of my favorite poems:<BR/><BR/>There's the wonderful love of a beautiful maid,<BR/>And the love of a staunch true man,<BR/>And the love of a baby that's unafraid--<BR/>All have existed since time began.<BR/>Bust the most wondeful love, the Love of all loves,<BR/>Even greater than the love for a Mother,<BR/>Is the infinite, tenderest, passionate love<BR/>Of one dead drunk for another.By Georgehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13354290886936308105noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-1149873301610768502006-06-09T18:15:00.000+01:002006-06-09T18:15:00.000+01:00This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.By Georgehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13354290886936308105noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-1149873208551648252006-06-09T18:13:00.000+01:002006-06-09T18:13:00.000+01:00This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.By Georgehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13354290886936308105noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-1149872993795968682006-06-09T18:09:00.000+01:002006-06-09T18:09:00.000+01:00This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.By Georgehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13354290886936308105noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-1149621567434487712006-06-06T20:19:00.000+01:002006-06-06T20:19:00.000+01:00Ah, the English language is indeed a thing of beau...Ah, the English language is indeed a thing of beauty when it flows from the hand of a true poet. <BR/><BR/>Now I shall go about the rest of my day, basking in the glow of the memories of my own childhood in a blissful rural setting. Amazing how the conjuring up of said memories deafens one to the sounds of a city. <BR/><BR/>Thanks for sharing.Pyjama Divahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12339158898477730251noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883584.post-1149593888753636812006-06-06T12:38:00.000+01:002006-06-06T12:38:00.000+01:00He was true bard was old Dylan.He was true bard was old Dylan.Martynhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17678628763585554800noreply@blogger.com