[John Isbell]

Fliss, the bulls are hilarious. I do hope that was the intended effect! The question is: who is to be master of light verse? And the answer is: one Ms. Felicity Teague, of course, with Word-Bird at her flank. You make the difficult seem effortless, and I feel sure that the bulls thank you. They might at last catch a break, as you intimate. I shall at once go and perform all their suggested actions, pretty much.

Cheers,
John

[F.F. Teague]

Thanks, John!

Yes, that was indeed the intended effect. You really are too kind about my light verse ability. As it happens, I do hear the bulls bellowing their thanks, to you as well as to me. The notes you provided helped me to focus on my writing and I wish you well with standing, putting on your shoes, and skipping to Khorsabad, lol.

Best wishes,
Fliss

[John Isbell]

Thanks, Fliss - skipping to Khorsabad could be time-consuming! Here however is a poem about going to Babylon. I hope you enjoy it!


Close as Candlelight

How many miles to Babylon? The sort
of question that bears asking – for the world
is very old and very large, when you
have not left childhood. As the vivid day
yields to the pillow, you could lend an ear
to such a question. You could brush your teeth,
put on pajamas. This is just the time
to ask how far is Babylon – for trips
the day forbids are made by night. You can
indeed get there by candlelight, though what
your errand there is, I can’t say. You might
visit the Queen; you might observe the sunset;
you might speak in Akkadian. There is
no telling what the night holds. And when dawn
pries you from slumber, you could tell your mum
or dad about your journey. You could dress
for school, have breakfast, start the day; but you
might think of how you traveled, of that Queen
you met, that language that you spoke. You might
remember Babylon, which is as close
as candlelight when all is said and done.


Cheers,
John
 

[F.F. Teague]

That's true, John, unless you had some special shoes, lol.

That's a lovely poem there. I have rather wonderful dreams of travelling, recorded in my Dreambook. One of my favourite copyediting projects was this one (Byzantium rather than Babylon, but that ties in with W.B.). Anyway, your poem leaves me with a warm relaxed feeling, much appreciated as a busy day draws to a close :-) :>)

[John Isbell]

Hi Fliss,

Lovely title as well - Oneirocritica indeed!

I'm glad you like the poem. Byzantium and Sailing to Byzantium I return to again and again as I work at my art, so I share your appreciation for what WB does there. It is breathtaking. Here's one: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poe...g-to-byzantium

Cheers,
John

[F.F. Teague]

Hi John,

Yes, great title. The funny thing about that book was that most of the interpretations were set out as, 'If you have a dream about [something], this is [positive/negative] for you.' But occasionally the author would omit the bit about the dream, e.g. 'If your ear falls off, this is bad for you.' 'It is indeedy,' observes Coo 8>)

Ace poem. And some amazing lines in 'Sailing', yes. We particularly like, 'An aged man is but a poultry thing' :>)

Cheers,
Fliss

[John Isbell]

However and nevertheless, do not eat aged men. I can’t stress this enough!

Cheers,
John

[F.F. Teague]

Thanks for the advice, John, lol. I'd like to mention that my chicken soup isn't actually made from real chicken and these days I'd be more inclined to pet poultry anyway <(:-)

'I am a pigeon fancier,' Coo confides, suddenly. Yes, Coo; thank you. 'Thank-coo' ;>)

[John Isbell]

I am glad to hear that no chickens are harmed in the making of your chicken soup, Fliss. Of course, I expect nothing less of you!

You might perhaps try mock turtle soup. Though tbh I’m not sure what is in it.

Cheers,
John

[Ann Drysdale]

Mock Turtle soup is made of brains. It is therefore the bait of choice in zombie traps.