[Alan Rain]

Originally Posted by John Whitworth

Surely everybody knows Bazza is at least three persons.

I know of schizophrenia, but this is remarkable.

[Rob Stuart]

The countryside abounds in rustic charm-
I wonder why I've never been before?
I envy he who labours on a farm
Instead of punching keys behind a door.
I love the ‘zoidurrr’ and the hearty food,
The bawdy songs the locals like to sing,
Their readiness to frolic in the nude
Inside a sacred megalithic ring,
And how their wise old womenfolk attest
A swallowed shrew’s the thing to cure a wart.
Tomorrow, which is May Day, they request
I join them for a function of some sort.
I’ve heard a cryptic rumour that they plan
To introduce me to their 'wicker man’…?

[Jayne Osborn]

Rob,

I shall have nightmares tonight, now that you've reminded me about Wicker Man. That film totally freaks me out. Aaargghhh!!!!

But seriously, that's a terrific entry, with an unusual angle. I'd put money on it...

Jayne

[Rob Stuart]

Thank you Jayne. Sorry for the nightmares, though.

[Julie Steiner]

Originally Posted by Alan Rain

I know of schizophrenia, but this is remarkable.

Nah, it's theology.

[Jayne Osborn]

“Oh, you must come and visit me, Darling,
in this charming old cottage of mine.
I have a nice guest room,
in fact it’s the best room;
the view from it’s simply divine.”

So I went, leaving what I was used to:
city life with its permanent thrill.
My great-aunt was charming,
though it was alarming
how difficult days were to fill.

No, I’m sorry, I can’t hack the country:
the slow life, the silence as well.
That first time – and last time –
not my kind of pastime
at all. It’s as lonely as hell.

[Brian Allgar]

The country was at war. The men had gone,
And farmers needed help producing food,
So city-dwelling girls were called upon
To 'do their bit'. Although the work was rude,
Ophelia volunteered to be a Land Girl,
Her first time in the English countryside.
The farmer greeted her: "My, you're a grand girl!
There's much to learn; my son will be your guide."

One day, she asked him: "What are 'country matters'?"
The farmer's son was happy to explain,
And soon her clothes (and virtue) lay in tatters.
Later, she told him: "Well, they can't complain;
I've learnt to feed the piglets in their pens,
Muck out the stables, dig for victory,
Collect the eggs each morning from the hens . . .
I've 'done my bit'." He grinned, for so had he.

[Nigel Mace]

Plainly Jayne's lonely lady and Brian's farmer's boy should meet. Which one of you is going to write the tale?

[Alan Rain]

How pc is The Oldie?

[Ann Drysdale]

Hard to say, Alan, without knowing what you want to send in. A good way of judging the tone would be to scroll down through this forum and look at all the "results" threads Jayne has posted. That will give you a "feel" for the sort of thing that goes down well.