Scraps of rhyme .....

[Thorgrimm Halfdane]

REFLECTING ON A BLUE SKY SUMMER.

Azure Heart
Blue on Blue
Retreat to the Horizon
The lapping calm
of the unlimited
space
Floating on
strands of gold
Precious ties
to shimmering
times.

Another by my sister.

:)T.

[Halethala]

Mmmmmm . . so lovely to come get caught up on your amazing talents, and those from family and heart, Thorgrimm . . (you really SHOULD publish a book of these, you know . . )

[Thorgrimm Halfdane]

A book 'Letha ? .... maybe ... some day
For now, I am content that you and all who visit here get some enjoyment from my words. ;D
Thank you, my friend Here is another of mine to make you smile



BUMP IN THE NIGHT - A Scary Story.

Then it went thump,
And I got such a fright,
How I hate all those things,
That go bump in the night.
Some boards went creak,
It gave me a scare,
Could it be a burglar,
Climbing the stair?
There was a loud bang,
Which made my nerves shatter,
The wind on the roof,
Made the tiles clatter.
Now what’s that hub-bub,
That made my teeth rattle,
Is it mice in the wardrobe,
Having a battle?
The house gave a shudder,
My knees started to quake.
Something outside,
Has made the window-panes shake.
I just heard a scrape,
And my heart gave a catch,
What’s at the door,
That’s having a scratch?
I shouldn’t wonder,
If my hair’s turning white,
I really don’t like,
When it gets dark at night.
I have done everything,
Even tried counting sheep,
With all of these noises,
I can’t get to sleep.
Look there’s the Sun,
A new day is dawning.
Maybe it will be better,
Now that it’s Morning.
But look in the mirror,
I am a terrible sight,
Oh, how I hate it when things,
Go bump in the night!


:)T.

[Dream Loxley]

*VBS* So true......so right! They tell me I frighten myself in the dark *LOL* ....... Wonderful T... looking forward to more of your work.

[Thorgrimm Halfdane]

I'm sure that you all remember the film 'The Man from Snowy River' which was from a poem of the same name, well moves are under way to make a film from the following poem too, which is by the same author.

CLANCY OF THE OVERFLOW

I had written him a letter which I had, for want of better
Knowledge, sent to where I met him down the Lachlan, years ago,
He was shearing when I knew him, so I sent the letter to him,
Just on spec, addressed as follows, “Clancy, of The Overflow”.
And an answer came directed in a writing unexpected,
(And I think the same was written with a thumb-nail dipped in tar)
’Twas his shearing mate who wrote it, and verbatim I will quote it:
“Clancy’s gone to Queensland droving, and we don’t know where he are.”
. . . . .
In my wild erratic fancy visions come to me of Clancy
Gone a-droving “down the Cooper” where the Western drovers go;
As the stock are slowly stringing, Clancy rides behind them singing,
For the drover’s life has pleasures that the townsfolk never know.

And the bush hath friends to meet him, and their kindly voices greet him
In the murmur of the breezes and the river on its bars,
And he sees the vision splendid of the sunlit plains extended,
And at night the wond’rous glory of the everlasting stars.
. . . . .
I am sitting in my dingy little office, where a stingy
Ray of sunlight struggles feebly down between the houses tall,
And the foetid air and gritty of the dusty, dirty city
Through the open window floating, spreads its foulness over all.

And in place of lowing cattle, I can hear the fiendish rattle
Of the tramways and the buses making hurry down the street,
And the language uninviting of the gutter children fighting,
Comes fitfully and faintly through the ceaseless tramp of feet.

And the hurrying people daunt me, and their pallid faces haunt me
As they shoulder one another in their rush and nervous haste,
With their eager eyes and greedy, and their stunted forms and weedy,
For townsfolk have no time to grow, they have no time to waste.

And I somehow rather fancy that I’d like to change with Clancy,
Like to take a turn at droving where the seasons come and go,
While he faced the round eternal of the cash-book and the journal—
But I doubt he’d suit the office, Clancy, of The Overflow.

A.B (Banjo) Paterson

:)T.

[Thorgrimm Halfdane]

EARTHBOUND.

When I was young my dreams could take flight,
And float on a sea of shimmering light.
As I grew older, cares, problems and pains,
Wreathed me about like dark leaden chains.
So overwhelming their ponderous might,
The shadows they threw would cut out the light.
And so keep my feet set flat to the ground,
In search of solutions never quite found.
I long to regain that ethereal light,
As my imagination once more takes flight,
Then in its wonder once more to soar,
And from that time be earthbound no more.


T.

[Halethala]

*Peeks in for a long overdue Thorgrimm poetic "fix" . . *

Mmmmmmmm . . thanks . . and how true the last one . .

[Lady Edfeil]

I don't always comment,
but do always read
this thread often is,
just what I need

When I look for a laugh
or a moment of quiet
I come to this thread,
and find it all right.

So a thank you seems now
right in this place
Looking forward to read more
on the following days!

[Thorgrimm Halfdane]

Edie,

:)Thank You

To try to say more would ruin the moment.

:)T.

[Thorgrimm Halfdane]

I posted this poem very early in this thead but I was not happy with the way it came out, so here it is again in a more readable format.

--------------------

THROUGH THE EYES OF A CHILD..

Skyrockets in flight,
Witches ride broomsticks through the night.
Cannons thundering aloud,
From galleons afloat on a sea of cloud.
Climb upon a winding stair,
Find the giant who lives up there.
Sparkling rainbows in a mist,
Glisten in eyes by faeries kissed.
Mounted on a wooden steed,
Is a noble knight in word and deed.
A forest full of mossy knolls,
Can hide elves and goblins dwarves and trolls.
Strive to save the maiden fair,
Slay the dragon in his fiery lair.
Fashioned by many willing hands,
Huge castles bake on the summer sands.
Indians are creeping through the grass,
To catch the cowboys at the hayshed pass.
Grab a spade but take a sword,
Search the beach for a pirate’s horde.
There’s Venus, Saturn, Jupiter and Mars,
Fly a rocket ship to explore the stars.
Imagination to split worlds asunder,
Through the eyes of a child it’s all magic and wonder.

:)T.

[Dream Loxley]

Simply lovely Mister T

Perhaps not only through the eyes of children that we see a world of magic and wonder.

[Pensive]

An Angels Touch

A soft whisper on the wind
a voice heard yet not a soul in sight
A hug from a friend
gentle at first, then holding you tight
A kiss from a loved one
no specific reason as to why
A warm embrace from the sun
her rays stretching to greet you across the sky
A child's outpouring of unconditional Love
the gleam in their eyes showing proof of such
A prayer answered by the Lord above
all are indicative of 'An Angels Touch'


This is just a sample of how Angels touch our lives. Is all I had time for on my lunch break today.

Please feel free to add to it if you so desire.

[Dream Loxley]

:)Lovely words to greet me........ welcome to our special place Amyra. We tend to visit here for inspiration, peace and tranquility.....and of course that much needed smile

Such a wealth of talent within you all...........my thanks once again.

[Thorgrimm Halfdane]

For those who may have missed it, this is the poem that I posted during the Halloween Party.


ALL HALLOW"S EVE.

Forgotten lore from times long past,
Spooky spells have all been cast.
Enters now this night all hallowed,
'Ere the bright full moon has tallowed.

Feel the shivery spiders crawl,
Hear the ghost moan down the hall.
Black cats are now out on the prowl,
Hark! The werewolves howl and growl.

As vampires fly up from their crypts,
From their mouths, blood brightly drips.
The dead shall rise from the cemetary,
So at the gate. Take care! Don't tarry!

'Tis the night for every spirit,
Though mere mortals always fear it.
But for undead, ghoul and demon,
This is their special night for gleamin'.

The witches are out on their brooms,
Tall black hats and cats well groomed.
Across the land they fly, and scare
All those mortals abroad out there.

This one night is theirs, you see,
If not a believer, you soon will be!
So until they take their leave,
'Tis for them - All Hallow's Eve.


The original was written by a very good American friend of mine, who was gracious enough to allow me to play around with it a little.

[Dream Loxley]

So glad to see you posting again...... its even better read the second time around. *Grins and leaves some 'fingers' to nibble on.*