Monologue and poetry fan.
The Fox You might see me in the back streets By the light of the full moon With my look refined and cunning I will almost make you swoon Don't treat me as an enemy Or fear me as a foe Don't use evil words against me I'm a well-bred soul, you know I'm a smooth, suave, refined old chap A four-legged paradox Oblige me for a moment, please - I'm an urbane urban fox You've seen me on my rounds But I'm not heading for your bins No - you're far too quick to judge me Though, I confess - I have my sins One must eat to live, of course I'll not claim to be benign But I am a gracious, civil guest Where're I choose to dine The hen house holds a great appeal And I know how to pick the locks I do that with true style though I'm an urbane urban fox My poise and affable demeanour Give me access to any Mayfair club I'm a cut above the rural fox Who seems happy with his "pub" I'm not one to judge, of course I'm far too cool for that But jeans and a checked shirt? No! I choose a jacket and cravat No pints for me - it's G & T Or Martini on the rocks Oh yes, darling, I really am An urban urbane fox I can capture your attention With my wit and sharp brown eyes I'm keen to make a business deal Should my nose smell enterprise My fur is sleek, groomed and neat My tail swishes to impress My paw is keen to shake your hand When I'm ready to invest I truly never miss a trick When opportunity knocks I'm cordially yours I'm an urbane urban fox I enjoy reading high-brow lit Classical music was written for me Opera sets my spine a-tingle So does ballet, naturally I go shootin' with my country pals As for skiing - I'd rather not I find dancing is a pleasure though I love the Charleston and Fox Trot But don't class me as a Liberal I am rather orthodox Let's steer clear of politics I'm an urbane urban fox I'm polished. Well-mannered. Chic. Rich beyond compare Elegant and gallant And oh, so debonair But yes, I walk the city streets In the hours before the dawn There's something about the smell, you see To which I'm somehow, strangely drawn Don't judge me for that, please I'm just A four-legged paradox I thank you for your time - With love. Your urban urbane fox The View I'm sitting here Admiring the view Thankful for it's beauty It's comfort It's familiarity. I've been here before So I can close my eyes and picture it still And I know it all. Deep breath in Contented smile Snapshot made The scene is owned Then the eyes open As realisation strikes - I own nothing - I know nothing I don't know how each hill was formed the names of the farmers who built the stiles to every field or the names of those who now own those blankets of land I cannot begin to count every blade of grass to measure the mist to know the age and history of every tree The past of the very bench I'm sat on is a mystery to me The winding roads have their own heritage And I can't say who first walked it's length Or where that plodding bus was built Or where it's been since it's birth The cars stuck behind are heading on their own unique journeys I can't vouch as to where to or where from Far less state the words and thoughts of those cocooned inside Or declare the depth of any of the puddles they pass I can't tell you the wattage of the bulb Shining through that distant window Still less how warm the sun will feel in an hour Or the direction the wind came from, even ten seconds ago The provenance and future of those clouds Cannot be told by them Let alone by me. Eyes close once more I know nothing but the fact that this view In this moment Does belong to me And that maybe, somehow I'm all the wiser for knowing less
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
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|Wk 49||1 event|
|Wk 51||1 event|
Hover over an event to see the details. ( open mic event, Write Out Loud event)
Saturday 08 December 2012
Saturday 22 December 2012
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