Thread: Poets corner.............

Poetry is not an art,
just some words that sound real smart,
If you want to win a tart,
think up some words which will make her notice,
you are not just playing but have real potence.
Some will say that material things,
will not get you all your whims.
Just be patient and do the work,
don't behave like a bloody jerk.
The bloke who babbles ,raves and rants,
will not get into her pants.

A mob of internet-capable woodies,
All fully equipped with the goodies
To rout, plane and drill
(Enough to make themselves ill)
Chose to add verse to their studies ...

(Keep it goin' fellas!)

Fast spinning steel
not good to feel
youll feel the pain
again and again
for years itll plauge your senses
come down from your fences
desperado!

Ok got side tracked there

Oak , mahognay and wonderous teak,
into what shape shall we tweak
the planks and boards so hard to get,
Do we rip them,
do we plain them,
do we carefully align them,
do we chisel, glue and sand them,
What's the outcome of our effort,
have we made the the pice we wanted,
is the item up to spec,
or have merely made a wreck.
With all out tools we go for bust,
and finish up with a pile of dust.
The thing to prevent this is a sure bet,
when you get help from the woodworkers net.

Some time has past,
since I was here last.

And to my eyes,
a delightful suprise.

Creative souls,
achieving goals.

What was once a chore,
has become adored.

Thank you all for the enlighting read,
I'm off to find my noble steed?

LMAO

Today it rained and the wood got wet,
I think I'll take the dog to the vet,
Poor old bugger has lived his life,
I just want to keep him till 2005,
The grand kids love the furry old bloke
with him they have had many a joke,
they have run and jumped and swum with him,
he has responded to their every whim.
What now old boy, no more saw dust,
no more pinching the cut offs,
and no more chewing the extension cords.
I wish you were a piece of wood,
preserve your gentle soul I would,
The shed is empty except for stuff,
I really do miss your cheeky Wuff!
If dogs were holy mine would be the
the Pope of all canine Doggery.
My new dog Jack stops me from fraying
around the edges and decaying.
He gives me hope and and gives me life
to continue with this wood work life.
A can of beer and a Christmas cheer
without either we wouldn't be here,
Working wood and using tools we trust
we continue to make our our pile of dust.
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Four days have gone and no more prose,
What does this mean do you suppose.
the words about the bloody dog ,
were written under the influence of grog,
The mongrel is alive and well,
and should be dwelling in burning hell.
He buggers plants and craps about,
for me to run and clean and shout,
I must admit I love the dog,
except when I get on the grog.

The ghost of poor old dead Rex
has come to curse you with a hex
from now on sobber you must be
else youll be swimming in Rex's doggy pee
If on the grog you should hop
Rex will pee with no stop
Higher and higher it will rise
stopping just over your eyes

So when you lot gunna start singing Old Shep ???

You got the words??

Now, when I was a lad
And old Shep was a pup
Over hills and valleys we'd stray
Just a boy and his dog
We were both full of fun
We'd grown up together that way

I remember the time at the old swimmin' hole
When I would have drowned beyond doubt
But old Shep was right there
To the rescue he came
He jumped in and helped drag me out

Now the years rolled along
And last he grew old
His eyesight was fast growing dim
And one day the doctor looked at me and said
I can't do no more for him Jim

So with tremblin hands
I picked up my gun
And aimed it at Shep's faithful head
But I, I just couldn't do it
I wanted to run
I wish they'd shoot me instead

So I threw down that old gun
And ran right up to his side
He laid his faithful old head right on my knee
And friends, I stroked the best pal
That a man ever found
I even cried so I could scarcely see

Now old shep.. he knew
Knew he was gonna go
Cuz he reached gown and
Licked at my hand
And he looked up at me
Just as much as to say
I hate it too but... you understand

Now old Shep has gone
Where the good doggies go
And no more with old Shep will I roam
But if dogs have a heaven
There's one thing I know
Old Shep has a wonderful home

But where is the sound!!!!

These dreadful sessions
Of canine impressions
Leave lasting impressions
Of senile depressions

Further avoidance
Of further annoyance
Switch off the supployance
Of IS provoydance
(Shakespeare)

Originally Posted by Iain

These dreadful sessions
Of canine impressions
Leave lasting impressions
Of senile depressions

Further avoidance
Of further annoyance
Switch off the supployance
Of IS provoydance
(Shakespeare)

Davo Shakespeare perchance?