This reminds me of a childhood poem I used to love, Overheard on a saltmarsh,
Nymph, Nymph, what are your beads? Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them? Give them me. No. Give them me. Give them me. No. Then I will howl all night in the reeds, Lie in the mud and howl for them. Goblin, why do you love them so? They are better than stars or water, Better than voices of winds that sing, Better than any man's fair daughter, your green glass beads on a sliver ring. Hush, I stole them out of the moon. Give me your beads, I want them. No. I will howl in the deep lagoon For your green glass beads, I love them so. Give them me. Give them me. No.
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Who won?
ReplyDeleteTina
What, you can't tell from the body language?
Deletemy money is on Gregg :)
DeleteTalk about your irresistible force meeting your immoveable object...
ReplyDeleteThis reminds me of a childhood poem I used to love, Overheard on a saltmarsh,
ReplyDeleteNymph, Nymph, what are your beads?
Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them?
Give them me.
No.
Give them me. Give them me.
No.
Then I will howl all night in the reeds,
Lie in the mud and howl for them.
Goblin, why do you love them so?
They are better than stars or water,
Better than voices of winds that sing,
Better than any man's fair daughter,
your green glass beads on a sliver ring.
Hush, I stole them out of the moon.
Give me your beads, I want them.
No.
I will howl in the deep lagoon
For your green glass beads, I love them so.
Give them me. Give them me.
No.
Harold Monro (1879-1932)
oooooh, nice and weird at the same time. Love it.
DeletePriceless - I will laugh about that one all day
ReplyDelete