It’s Montana poetry day.
What’s your favourite poem and why?
I’m normally not into poetry, (the poetry category was put in by wife when she was posting) but this one came to mind.
My life is but a weaving between my Lord and me, I cannot choose the colors He worketh steadily.
Oft times He weaveth sorrow, and I in foolish pride forget He sees the upper but I the under side.
Not till the loom is silent and the shuttles cease to fly, shall God unroll the canvas and explain the reason why.
The dark threads are as needed in the Weaver’s skillful hand, as threads of gold and silver in the pattern life has planned.
Benjamin Malachi Franklin (1882-1965)
There once was a man named John Key
Leader of National he was hoping to be
National went up in the polls
Will Don and John switch roles?
For that one we’ll have to wait and see
* * * * * * * * * * * *
There once was a party called Labour
They weren’t exactly the month’s favourite flavour
‘Cause in the polls they went down
And it made Helen frown
Good thing Photoshop is her neighbour 😛
There once was a party called National
They were seen as being quite rational
They brought in Don Brash
Who used to sign cash
And now Helen Clark is unfashionable
There was an MP named Dunne
Who said: “tax cuts for everyone!”
But Cullen wouldn’t say
How much dosh he’d give away
So more baked beans anyone?
There was a Prime Minister named Clark
She had a very loud bark.
Her bite was also vicious
She found the opposition delicious
She’d do well in a wide life park
(Munching on bananas perhaps? 🙂 )
There was an MP called Michael
He knew all about the economic cycle
He sat on big bucks
While we all cried: “tax cuts!
Or else the economy will stifle”
Through the door into the back of the hill lives Dear Mrs Tiggy-winkle. She loves to wash out every stain and make clothes look brand new again.
She’s also an excellent clear starcher, if you please ‘m.
She warms her iron on the stove, for pressing linen, pinnies and clothes. Ironed flat and folded neat, as a washerwomen, she’s hard to beat!
And as she goes about her work She sings a little song:
“Lily-white and clean, oh!
With little frills between, oh!
Smooth and hot-red rusty spot
Never here be seen, oh!”
Now, I don’t mind hanging out clothes to dry, it’s a job I quite enjoy. But ironing is different matter Mrs Tiggy-winkle I’d love to employ.
She works so hard the whole day through, and gets everything so pristine.
For she loves to wash, iron and mend and starch clothes sparkling clean.
Another one of her specialties, if you please ‘m.
She is an inspiration to all women everywhere!
Mrs Tiggy-winkle, I love you and wish you could come and do my ironing!