Each day this week I am publishing a short 4-line verse, each one commencing with a well-known line, sometimes adapted to suit the context, from a renowned published poem. The general theme is that of Isolation.
( ‘April is the cruelest month’ From ‘The Waste Land by T.S.Eliot )
On T. S. Eliot: Pastiche #2
April is the cruellest month
But I’m glad that I’m alive.
I tell myself I’m fit and fine,
You’d never guess I’m eighty-five.
Posted in contemplation, Language, People, Poetry, Verse, Writing |
Tagged age, April, cruel, fit, month, pastiche, T.S.Eliot, well
A – G – M
I met a dear old friend
Whose time I knew was fleeting;
He looked so frail and wan,
I asked how he was keeping.
He said he was ‘ A-G-M‘,
A strange and quirky word,
In fact I thought it odd
And really quite absurd.
I asked him what he meant.
He said “Because I’m old,
And glad to be alive
I think you should be told …”
That I am still quite fit,
Not ready yet for disposal,
Still stepping out and free,
‘ Above the Ground and Mobile.’
Posted in humour, Language, People, Poetry, Verse, Writing |
Tagged alive, buried, fit, free, friend, mobility, old, old age, word