The Owl and the Pussycat
By Edward Lear
The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
"O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are,
What a beautiful Pussy you are!"
Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! Too long we have tarried,
But what shall we do for a ring?"
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-Trees grow,
And there in a wood, a Piggy-wig stood,
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.
"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling,
Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will."
So they took it away and were married next day,
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon,
And hand-in-hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.
My Dad's Favourite Poem
The Charge of the Light Brigade
By Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred:
"Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge of the guns" he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismay’d?
Not tho’ the soldier knew
Someone had blunder’d:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die,
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.
Flash’d all their sabres bare,
Flash’d as they turn’d in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army while
All the world wonder’d:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro’ the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel’d from the sabre-stroke,
Shatter’d and sunder’d.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had bought so well
Came thro’ the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them
Left of six hundred.
When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder’d.
Honour the charge they made?
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!
Dear Poetry Readers,
I like poems that rhyme and my favourite is "The Owl and the Pussycat" by Edward Lear.
I’ve liked it ever since I was a young girl, because it’s romantic and I enjoy the silliness of it. Now that I’m older, it reminds me of when my husband and I were dating and we’d go canoeing for hours; although he brought along his harmonica instead of a guitar! By the way, as I write this I realize another interesting coincidence; although we didn’t dance on the sand, the last-dance song at our wedding was "Harvest Moon"!
I also find it interesting that the couple is an "interracial pair", a bird and a cat, which shows that love does not discriminate, even back in 1857 when this poem was written.
Theresa Oad
Dear Poetry Readers,
One of my favourite poems is "The Charge of the Light Brigade" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.
This poem always makes me think of the bravery and sacrifice, without question of cost or thought for self, only for the better of what it would accomplish, for the Company who went forward to fight the battle before them and attain what had to be done.
Christopher Oad
(1854)(1871)
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