[To the garden that I
loved and lost]
I grew a crimson Peony,
The finest I had seony,
All stately, stout and sumptuous,
And positively bumptuous.
But then, a day or two away,
Its petals fell and blew away.
I'm glad I'm not that Peony.
I'm better off just being me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
VERSES DIVERSE, SEVENTY YEARS A-BREWING. LAUGH, CRY, TURN AWAY BORED - BUT READ!
Introducing Annabelle
Annabelle was, as the Church has it, promoted to glory on the 27th November 2008 at the age of 78. Her family will be compiling the works of this woman of very, very many words for years to come. Enjoy the fruits of her labours here.
______________________________Poem perpetrator, Poetical person, Rampaging Rhymer, for seven decades Annabelle, a whimsical widow, wrote verses about all kinds of everything, lightsome, frivolous, serious, complaining, commending, commentating.
In addition to a keen observer of human nature, she was mother, grandmother, aunt, great aunt, heavily involved in divers activities including Poems, Rhymes, Verses etc. as above - oh yes, and much voluntary work, community and Cathedral.
Comment on her works - her family will be grateful for your thoughts.
Contents
- Caternalia (4)
- Commentary (16)
- Family (8)
- Fantasy (1)
- Garden (9)
- Lightsome (25)
- Limerick (13)
- Love (6)
- Musings (7)
- Nature (1)
- Parody (7)
- Slightly Sacred (21)
- Surgical Spirit (3)
- Travels (1)
- Unpleasing (1)
- Valentine (5)
- War (5)
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