REALLY FLAMING AWFUL RHYME


To be quite chilly recently
Indeed has been our fate;
A fireplace working decently –
Oh, wouldn’t that be grate?


 ‘Stop adding wood increasingly:
Da fire’s getting higher!’
But to da fire, unceasingly,
I’d add more to defy her!  

Now would the blaze be burning up
Chilling out, set alight?
Or ‘alight on sofa’ turning up
Makes ‘burn down’ better, right? 

Oh, limp ick flame’s a thing of past,
Curb your eager yearning
To watch your sportsman come in last,
Ambition has stopped burning! 

(The wheel has now stopped turning,
And we go back to learning.) 

‘The time has come,’ the Colonialist said, ‘to squeak of many things …’ only, unlike the Walrus, I don’t have the time. Even though I have finally finished the music for Immy and slotted it into the slide show, I find myself tinkering and wanting to add things like split-second (literally) pauses, and better descriptions of what the sound is doing. Each alteration to the music, regardless of how tiny, involves changing the score, re-recording it as MP3, disguising that as WAV, transferring it to another computer to put it into the slide show, resetting the times … You get the picture. I mean, you get the music and the picture, but only after I’ve done all that. 

Younger Daughter, hubby and the grandkids set out on Thursday for a weekend in the Swartberg they had booked some time ago. They were thrilled at the fact that they were going to see all the snow. They saw the snow, all right, but they never did get to their destination. That wasn’t for want of trying. They spent Thursday night at a B & B in Underberg, Friday night at a farm in Ixopo, and Saturday night at the same farm. Each day’s attempt to get to the Lodge failed. When they gave up was when they met someone emerging in a really big 4 X 4 who said he had only just managed to get through by a whisker, and had very nearly failed.

I managed to get the dogs to the beach today.  It was really windy, and a bit chilly, but I had a good run.  I also managed, after a really close search, to find the mandatory cowrie of the day.  I really didn’t think I was going to, as most shells have been pounded to very fine shingle.  

© Colonialist August 2012 (WordPress/Letterdash)

About colonialist

Active septic geranium who plays with words writing fantasy novels and professionally editing, with notes writing classical music, and with riding a mountain bike, horses and dinghies. Recently Indie Publishing has been added to this list.
This entry was posted in Beach, Colonialist, verse, writing, music composition, fantasy, Africa, journal., Composition (classical), Fantasy, Grandchildren, Nonsense verse, Personal Journal, Poems, Really Awful Rhyme, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

18 Responses to REALLY FLAMING AWFUL RHYME

  1. nrhatch says:

    I thought your poem was grate! Best of luck with the music scoring . . . and tinkering. 😀

    Like

  2. 68ghia says:

    We even had a few flakes here in P town! Was actually quite cool 😉
    At least they got to see snow, if not the lodge!!

    Like

  3. Marco says:

    Hehe – as always, fun to read, thanks Col.

    Like

  4. Ruth2Day says:

    we couldn’t keep warm this past weekend, even with 5 heaters belting out hot air. Time for spring I think

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  5. newsferret says:

    Pity they never got to the lodge, but when it starts snowing the Swartberg pass is the first close and the last to open.

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  6. Hard to imagine you all shivering over there, Col, when we’ve just had a nice imitation of ‘quite warm’ today for the men’s marathon.

    Hope the fires burn brightly, and strictly in fireplaces.

    Like

  7. Pussycat44 says:

    While you were getting fired up, music-ing and rhyming I stayed safely indoors catching some extra zzz’s and reading! It looked like an unpleasant day outdoors.
    What a pity about the snow trip.

    Like

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