Pickled Pepper: A Moral Tale!

Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled pepper;
but what if, just to test her,
he offered pepper (what a jester)
to his pretty sister, Hester
saying here’s face powder (to suit her).

If Peter Piper offered pickled pepper to his sister, Hester?

Hester, with a fluster, sneezing (bless her)
would chase, and batter Peter, and
chuck his pepper in his peepers!

Leaving sneezing, watering-eyed Peter
pepperless, battered, bruised and wheezing
having learned the lesson of his teasing!

Remember younger, smaller sibling:
It is unfeasible
to assume your bigger sister teasable!

© Lis Goodwin 2016

I had fun writing this – I hope you enjoyed it!

Best wishes

Lis Goodwin – your voice coach

www.gloriousvoicecoaching.com

Thoughts on Evening – a poem by Lis Goodwin

evening-empty-benchcrop.jpg

The dark looms,

like a tall man getting closer.

And the trees seem to bleed,

shimmering their darkness

into the reflected blue water of evening.

 

Lights drip, rippling and pouring;

spilling carelessly towards you

as the water moves.

 

And the softest sound,

the gentlest warm breeze

caresses the grasses and comforts your soul,

your ear,

in the dark.

 

© Lis Goodwin 2016

 

I hope you enjoyed this – when I saw the picture, I felt it called for a poem.

Best wishes

Lis Goodwin – your voce coach

www.gloriousvoicecoaching.com

 

Image credit: Circe Denyer Evening Empty Bench Free Stock Photo – Public Domain Pictures

In Praise of Flies – a poem by Lis Goodwin

svart-spyfluga.jpg

Thank God for maggots!

Praise the Lord for flies!

Without them the redolent stench of death would bring water to our eyes!

 

The rotting fox in the hedgerow,

The fatally wounded mouse

not only the country’s saved the smell, but indeed so is your house!

 

Even the little shrew,

bats, mice and rats aren’t immune –

death gets them all, and flies are the clean-up crew!

 

Thank God for maggots!

Praise the Lord for flies!

Without them the redolent stench of death would bring water to our eyes!

 

© Lis Goodwin 2016

 

Don’t ask me about what prompted the mental processes which produced this little ‘gem’. Just don’t ask….

*shudder*

Best wishes

Lis Goodwin – your voice coach

www.gloriousvoicecoaching.com

Image credit: Peter Häger http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/view-image.php?image=23061&picture=black-blowfly

The Sick Rose – a poem by William Blake

O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.

William Blake

One of the earliest classic poems I read as a youngster doing voice coaching. I hope you enjoyed it!

So what was the earliest poem you can remember reading?

Best wishes

Lis Goodwin – your voice coach

www.gloriousvoicecoaching.com