Hi John,
Hooray! I'm glad you like all the sheepy stuff. Thanks for sharing your dream-poem, which I enjoyed reading in between work tasks earlier today. You probably don't remember, but I posted a dream-poem in Freshtival at some point; I suppose I could have posted it here. It was about John Lennon and slippers, lol.
I've looked back over the thread, observing that I've mentioned writing to Debussy's preludes. Here's another such poem. I'm afraid it bears very little relation to the music, lol; I was well into my Poet-in-Residence of Happenstance Border Morris at the time of writing, hence 'Mincombe', rather resembling 'Winchcombe'. And the made-up words, nonsense. I do like the sound of Great-Grandpa Gene, though. And also Fierce Frank! He'd be good on a night out
Music:
Debussy, Minstrels
Minstrels
Every Saturday morn
by the River Isbourne
there's a bit of a musical show
as the sun climbs the sky
swans come swimmering by
and a briskery breeze starts to blow.
With a squeezebox, a drum
and a well-tempered hum
Mincombe's Minstrels strike up a sound band
they've melodeon too
banjo, shawm, and kazoo
tambourine for a shakering hand.
They play all of the greats
twos, fours, sixes, and eights
and all manner of things in between
crotchets, quavers, and all
everybody's in thrall
Baby Bella to Great-Grandpa Gene.
Well, they tune to midday
then they wander away
on the path to The Thirsty Old Newt
then the show's at an end
they'll be back next weekend
with Fierce Frank on the Fanciful Flute!
🦎 <-- newt (not really)