I've Thumbed A Ride...

...On the Poetry Bus! Not too sure of the etiquette, but I heard its revving engine and before I knew it, I'd hopped on board. Apparently, to purchase a ticket, passengers have to write a poem on a given subject, which this week centres around 'Signposts'. So here's my special rate, OAP fare for a Sunday runabout through the lanes of Blogland.

What Next?

The sign on the post just says 'Footpath'.
I think someone's having a laugh.
There's nothing ahead but a big field of grass
where surely no right minded person would pass
without a large map and a compass.                      

There's a dodgy old style to climb over,
and no sign of a green, four-leafed clover.
If this is the country, then give me the town
with people and traffic that roars up and down -
till it stops and gives rise to an impasse!

Oh, no! Now its raining and that's the last straw!
The pastoral scene is more dire than before
when the heavens are pissing all over the place
and the weeds grab your feet in their loving embrace.
The countryside's gift is a real coupe de grâce.

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On a completely different tack, after so many of you had commented on the word 'Thwock' in my post about the delights of Wimbledon, I was a trifle non-plussed to discover, thanks to Google, that the Urban Dictionary gave this as a slang term for penis. This knowledge caused one bright spark called Christine to email me with the following ditty, which I feel obliged to share, as it's too clever to pass unnoticed!

In Blogland we must not defrock
A blogger for innocent use of t****k
The reaction should not be to jeer
For working the onomatopoeia

Collins, Oxford, Chambers too
Provide on t****k no simple clue
They all record the feisty thwack
To mean a thump, or bat or smack

In pursuit of beauty we all strive
Keeping our lyrical language alive
You shouldn't snigger or snort or mock
When ladies of letters throw in a t****k