Quite apart from all the legal hoops through which her successors had to jump to accede to her wish, the owners of adjacent properties had to be informed.
Luckily, our property lies at a higher elevation than where June was to be buried, but the immediate downstream neighbours were, understandably, rather concerned as to what the effects could be. Those neighbours are Mr and Mrs Windeler, now both deceased, themselves.
Nevertheless, I felt the event should be celebrated in verse:
Luckily, our property lies at a higher elevation than where June was to be buried, but the immediate downstream neighbours were, understandably, rather concerned as to what the effects could be. Those neighbours are Mr and Mrs Windeler, now both deceased, themselves.
Nevertheless, I felt the event should be celebrated in verse:
~ June ~
The summer season looms with the bounty it will bring
The plants with pretty berries will soon themselves festoon,
But in the Wind’ler garden, they will always ask themselves
Whether June is full of berries or the berries, full of June.
There goes friend Ken again,
ReplyDeleteAbout his neighbour June , or was it Jane?
He has started us on another chain,
One where it is hard to abstain.
Am I able to deign
Compete with others in same vein?
Don’t want to appear too vain,
But will continue in the main
Along the rhymes that are lain.
Somehow we will all gain,
More of comraderie it is plain
Just commenting so as to retain
A thread of Ditties with no pain.
Today it is snowing but no rain,
So winter continues to reign
On our soggy and icy terrain.
Reading XUNICEF blog I feign,
Will keep me alert and sane.
Global news is such a stain,
As more children are hurt and slain,
East and West are a Twain
Each of the other is a bane
What will these conflicts obtain
As humanity seems to wane ?
Help us these swamps to drain,
So that staples such as grain
Can feed our kids and trains
Them so as brothers they can remain.
Four days have passed and no reactions! Where are the rejoinders ?
ReplyDeleteDear Fouad, you’ve taken the crown,
ReplyDeleteWith rhymes that cascade and refuse to slow down.
From June into snow, from grain into pain—
You’ve turned Ken’s small verse to a lyrical train.
But lest we all drown in this generous stream,
Let’s toast to good wit—and keep it concise, I deem