And I, alone, am left to tell the tale...

[Shapley]

Friday afternoons get so quiet on the bulletin board. I've been logging in regularly to check the posts, and I watch as the number of people logged in decreases until, at last, I, alone, am left. For a brief moment, I saw GC logged in. Thinking my solitude would be interrupted by a witty post, I waited. But, alas, he came, he saw, he departed. No witticism did ne leave in his wake. It is as though he never was.

I, too, shall soon depart this barren board. Across the river, the grass grows green in the meadow, and it is commanded that I should undertake to hew it down, lest serpents should dwell there. Twenty-three horses await me, to sit astride them as they whirl the sharpened steel blades that will reduce the grass to an even height, at least temporarily. Zero turning radius will ensure that the battle is swift, and the grass neatly hewn. The speed of the mower is great, so that even Kudzu shall not overtake me. And the deer shall graze upon the fallen blades.

V/R
Shapley

[barfle]

Yea, I also find quietude amongst the masses of chaos and discord oft found in these environs. I also shall take my leave, and see if my lifemate desires a minor league baseball game, an antiquing adventure, or perchance I will tend to my steeds and fields as well.

[Shapley]

Fare thee well, until the masses shall perchance gather once more upon this field, as is their wont.

[bignaf]

let's make some noise:
SDFGERHTREGFHDHERHTSERESTGHEERGTSRGTHETY$%%%^ #$^%#$^&JN^N$^NM&%^!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[shostakovich]

Hey, I guess we know who has class and who doesn't. That is .......

Conjecture we may the vast distinction 'tween wheat and chaff.
Shospeare

[dai bread]

The rain it raineth all today
Upon the Just and Unjust fella.
But more upon the Just because
The Unjust hath the Just's umbrella.

Otherwise I, too, would be in the verdant fields cutting down tall blades.

[GreatCarouser]

Ah well.....late again......(yawn)....

[DavidS]

Spwing is spwung, da gwass is wiz,
I wonder where da boidies is?
Da boids is on da wing I guess.
But dat's absoid -
Da wings is on da boid!

[analog]

Ahhh the lawn. I should mow my weeds, but it's so hard to do something that I know will just undo itself. Maybe I'll wait until the solstice...

I did however sow some alfalfa for the deer...

[treebeau]

The sun kisses the morning sky.
The bird kisses the butterfly.
The dew kisses the morning grass.
And you, my friend, may kiss...

Well, guess I'm not very poetic. I can't think of a way to end that.

Regards,
Tim B.

[DavidS]

As I'm sure you know, the French are far more emotional and demonstrative than the British.
It so happened that a French girl got engaged to a British boy, and on the day it was announced and the parents from both sides met, her father wanted to embrace the boy's father. The boy's father got embarrassed and said "We don't kiss.."
Both families started writing cheques to put a deposit on the young couple's house, make arrangements for the wedding celebration etc.
After the wedding the British father-in-law's cheques started bouncing, and the French father-in-law confronted him with it and demanded an explanation.
He got the reply: "Now you can kiss me...."

[Schmeelkie]

The child the yellow flowers did enjoy
yet we had to pluck them out...
'A trowel', we said, 'is not a toy'
at which he began to scream and shout.

So we found one that was not too sharp
and for worms he proceeded to dig.
And dig he did until it was dark,
maybe someday this will be his gig...


(phew - haven't tried off the cuff poetry in quite a while...)

[Shapley]

The sky did rumble and the rain descended
and my plans to cut the grass were ended.
From the television room my wife did shriek
"They're calling for rain all of this week!"

My grass doth grow at an audible rate,
My plans to shear it started too late.
Cut it! Cut it! I must make haste,
soon it will have grown as tall as my waist!

The rain was falling, the wind was blowing,
outiside my window I heard the grass growing.
As I lay there trying to count to sleep,
I thought: "My kingdom for a flock of sheep!"

BTW, Dai, isn't it about time to retire the mower for the season down there?

[Selma in Sandy Eggo]

"My kingdom for a flock of sheep!"

May I suggest either Merinos or Corriedale? There's a handspinning market for either fleece. Merino fleeces go for more, but Corriedales are sturdier sheep and also good meat sheep. Either way, the fleeces will sell for more if you put sheep coats on the critter.

I'm enjoying all the poetry. It's sincere, and has real soul.

I can afford to smile, I have no grass.

[dai bread]

BTW, Dai, isn't it about time to retire the mower for the season down there?

Not in this part of the country! The autumnal flush of growth on my lawn would keep a horse. I fertilised the citrus trees a few weeks ago and the grass said "I'll have some of that, thanks."

[piqaboo]

The yellow flowers grow fuzzy heads
the child enjoys to pick them.
She blows the seeds into the air
next year, yellow flowers EVERYWHERE!

The husband fights the yellow flowers.
The child thwarts his plans.
The mama proposes discreet retreat;
dandelion greens are good to eat!

The grass grows tall and shades the flowers
the flowers like the sun
If we could stand to raise some hay
over the flower's we've won!

But neatly mowed, the front yard stays,
fed and lush and verdant.
And so the flowers keep the lead
becoming lawn, not just a weed.

[Jeff Dutton]

My steed, it roars and mows with ease.
It cuts the grass, my wife to please.
Its color green, its name JohnDeere...
Ah, who cares? Let's have a beer.

Soon upon my steed I'll sit.
I'll pause a moment, and think a bit...
If only it would rain today,
I'd be sawing logs, not mowing hay.

My wife, she is at work today.
"The grass is long", my bride did say.
I'd mow it now, but I'd rather play.
Besides, tomorrow is another day!

[Shapley]

The yellow flowers are mostly gone,
The jagged teeth on the leaves remain,
Their heavy root wad taps the ground,
nourished by the recent rain.

Above the green of the fresh-mowed lawn
A green drinking-straw grows over night
At its tip a fuzzy white ball
From which new seedlings soon take flight.

Soil good or poor, in rock and sand
The new seeds find their way
in walkway joints and driveway cracks
hundreds more arise each day.

Though dandelion wine and nectar honey
are bourn from the yellow flower
The fuzzy tops produce no more
than new offspring, within an hour!

Though I mow and cut and dig
til methinks the dandelions dead
I awake next morn to find my lawn
as white as the hair on my head!

[Jeff Dutton]

Bright yellow flower
Delicious wine or salad
I wish you would die

[Shapley]

And now, again I find myself
on the board alone, all, all, alone.
No posters here to spread good cheer
it's quiet as a stone.

I browse the threads in hope
of finding a topic dear
to spur a reply, but no! [sigh]
I guess I'll go for a beer!