The Jumblies (Edward Lear Poem)
I They went to sea in a Sieve, they did, In a Sieve they went to sea: In spite of ...
I They went to sea in a Sieve, they did, In a Sieve they went to sea: In spite of ...
To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name Am I thus ample to thy book and fame; While I confess ...
Cherry-ripe: dark sweet burlats, scarlet reverchons firm-fleshed and tart in the mouth bigarreaux, peach-and-white napoléons as the harvest moves north ...
Oh, there are times When all this fret and tumult that we hear Do seem more stale than to the ...
I "Percussus sum sicut foenum, et aruit cor meum." - Ps. ci Wintertime nighs; But my bereavement-pain It cannot bring ...
I never dreamed we'd meet that day In our old haunts down Fricourt way, Plotting such marvellous journeys there For ...
The ripe apples snapping in my mouth the fresh juice tart to the taste hungry for the sharp cheddar pungent ...
The joy, the secrets discovered wild berries, under the leafs, hidden in the woods, the underbrush in under the branches, ...
A clutch of blackberries tempting to the eye calling for the picking, before the birds get their fill so bright, ...
The last ripe berries from our own little vine woven into the rhododendron hidden from the birds, other interested parties ...
Sweet maple syrup, bitter radish, salad greens Tart lemon, juicy fruits Sour rhubarb, creamy sauces Raw meat, flaky fish rich ...
The tart had been melted before it sat solid in the warmer on the back of the stove She put ...
Surrounded by prickers, thorns tugging on my coat, my jeans lowering myself to the dark small fruit gathering in, berry ...
Crisp air Ripe fruit Heavy on the bough. Cool in the hand. Filling my bag. Snap of a McIntosh Tart ...
I have had enough. I gasp for breath. Every way ends, every road, every foot-path leads at last to the ...
The symbols that we use are T shirts of the dead thoughts of corpses without heads, a rictus without sound ...
Congratulations, you've succeeded, you've acknowledged 60% of you at least are the incredibly dense and mindless people needed to make ...
Hark! 'tis the twanging horn! O'er yonder bridge, That with its wearisome but needful length Bestrides the wintry flood, in ...
WHEN that Aprilis, with his showers swoot*, *sweet The drought of March hath pierced to the root, And bathed every ...
The restaurants on hot spring evenings Lie under a dense and savage air. Foul drafts and hoots from dunken revelers ...
THOU, Nature, partial Nature, I arraign; Of thy caprice maternal I complain. The peopled fold thy kindly care have found, ...
I ain't the kind of bloke as takes to any steady job; I drives me bottle cart around the town; ...
Jill. Fred phoned. He can't make tonight. He said he'd call again, as soon as poss. I said (on your ...
My thoughts are crabbed and sallow, My tears like vinegar, Or the bitter blinking yellow Of an acetic star. Tonight ...
How this tart fable instructs And mocks! Here's the parody of that moral mousetrap Set in the proverbs stitched on ...
Brother, that breathe the August air Ten thousand years from now, And smell-if still your orchards bear Tart apples on ...
They are, the surfaces, gorgeous: a master pastry chef at work here, the dips and whorls, the wrist-twist squeezes of ...
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