"Grantchester Meadows"

Icy wind of night, be gone.
This is not your domain.
In the sky a bird was heard to cry.
Misty morning whisperings and gentle stirring sounds
Belied a deathly silence that lay all around.
Hear the lark and harken to the barking of the dog fox gone to ground.
See the splashing of the kingfisher flashing to the water.
And a river of green is sliding unseen beneath the trees,
Laughing as it passes through the endless summer making for the sea.

       this is my idea of what poetry should be. I actually used to write poems too. they were pretty bad. I don't have the notebook I wrote them in anymore. but I will go ahead and do some off the top of my head and see if I can top Brian.

"Your beaver, it is eager, but it is like a cleaver

It wants to cut my soul like Dennis Weaver

and arrest me like Steven Seagal with the mental midgets of prison's dungeons

To forever be hung upon the tree of nothingness

and forgotten like snail slime in the desert

of sand and emptiness."

That is a poem I just wrote about the Senate and the current "health" bill that Obama has steamrolled us with. As you can see, my allegory of sand and emptiness quietly undermines the dastardly pork barrel lament of the joke that is this country's health system. the "nothingness" as you can plainly tell is alluding to the family tree of all the "illuminati" that have infested our government with their inbred wickedness. As you can well imagine, I am quite proud of this one.

I like both of them. Great job guys.