Macbeth Will Have No Say About It - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

Macbeth Will Have No Say About It

 

 

                       Light thickens; and the crow
Makes wing to the rooky wood:
Good things of day begin to droop and drowse

 

-Macbeth III.ii.50-52

 

 

Finishing the chores as the evening light fails

And high above me in the paling blue

Three crows calling out harshly as they soar

Indeed making wing to a rooky wood

 

Good things of day, good animals, in peace

Are safely penned in their barns and byres

And we marvel at god’s kindness in all things

A warm fire, lanternlight, supper, blessings

 

Let us hear nothing of the tyrant’s foul plans

But instead, happy stories, Evensong, then sleep

About NO KINGS DAY - doggerel

  

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

About NO KINGS DAY

 

 

“The King’s under the law, for it’s the law that makes him a King.”

 

― C.S. Lewis, The Horse and His Boy

 

Thus we need not worry about such a thing

As our proud president wanting to be a king

The Ruby-Throated Grand Scheme of Things - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

 

The Ruby-Throated Grand Scheme of Things

 

The last hummingbird of the season, perhaps,

A tail-end Charlie, this mid-October pilgrim

Stopping a moment at the dollar-store feeder

On El Camino Real to Mexico

 

To what king will this royal messenger report?

His legions of the air and summer flowers

Are gathering in from all over the Americas

To winter in mysterious valleys and hidden fields

 

 

L’envoi:

 

We can’t know where your long journey will end

But God speed you as you fly with the wind, little friend

Dawn Across the Planet - short poem

 Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

Dawn Across the Planet

 

Soon you will be awake for breakfast and tea

A good cup of tea for beginning the day

As the waning Harvest Moon sails west

And you and the sun rise happily in the east

Forgive Me for not Writing Yesterday - poem

  

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

Forgive Me for not Writing Yesterday

 

I was reclined before a bin of farriers’ tools

Ironmongery smithied in shining steel

In a room shaded institutional green

Fluorescent lights, only one door

 

Gadgets clipped to me, needles poked into me

Surely soon would sound the voice of Number Two:

“Information. We want information.”

Thinking of pain, then poetry, then you

 

But having a dying tooth extracted

Does not lend itself to metre or rhyme!

She Thinks My Tractor's Schleppy - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

She Thinks My Tractor’s Schleppy

 

Anyone who can hear “She thinks my tractor’s sexy”

With a teary eye of sentimentality

For a lost golden age of rural life

 

Da*ned sure didn't grow up on a farm

 

 

 

Cf. Kenny Chesney, “She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy,” lyrics by Jim Collins and Paul Overstreet.

Kind Hearts are More Than Coronets - rhyming doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

“Kind Hearts are More Than Coronets”

 

Tennyson – “Lady Clare Vere de Vere”

 

But coronets will get you set

In better seats at Goodwood, you bet

(Doesn't everyone read Tennyson on Sunday afternoon?)