The K M Links Game - November 2024 Week...
Quizzes & Puzzles0 min ago
Mad over Fifties CLub
132 Answers
The Club is now Open
Welcome again to all our members, old and older, mad and madder.
No doubt the usual delectable nibbles and drinks will appear shortly.
Tonight's raffle prizes so far include:
A packet of Spangles
4 bath cubes (lavender, of course)
A tin of Uncle Joe's Mintballs (don't tell him)
Welcome again to all our members, old and older, mad and madder.
No doubt the usual delectable nibbles and drinks will appear shortly.
Tonight's raffle prizes so far include:
A packet of Spangles
4 bath cubes (lavender, of course)
A tin of Uncle Joe's Mintballs (don't tell him)
Answers
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Apologies to Mr Keats tonight as it is St Agnes of Assisi Day and he wrote of her. I guess this doubles up to The Ed's Church too....so will copy over there.
Our heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
Our senses, as though of tailcock we had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the Castle drains
One minute past, and Lie-in-King had sunk:
’Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness,—
That thou, light-winged Mamya of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of naomi green, and AB Chucks numberless,
Singest of summer in B00-throated ease.
O, for Ratter’s vintage! that hath been
Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Craftie and the country green,
Dance, and Boxtops song, and Slinky mirth!
O for a beaker full of Sunny-Dave South,
Full of the true, the blushful Carakeel-cream,
With beaded Nungate winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth;
That we may drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim:
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The Seekeerz, the fever, and the fret
Here, AB men sit and hear each other groan;
Where Murray shakes a few, sqad, last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and postdog-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And Venator-eyed despairs,
Where Jogger Jayne cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
Away! away! for we will fly to thee,
Not charioted by PolarBear and her pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the Miss Meg perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! tender is the night,
And haply the Lady Alex is on her throne,
Cluster’d around by all her starry Fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the Bakers blown
Through Ankou glooms and winding Gitty ways.
We cannot see what Daisy Nonnas are at our feet,
Nor Flip-the-Switch hangs upon the boughs,
But, in Rowan darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The TonyV, the thicket, and the Jack-Hat wild;
White hawthorn, and D97 eglantine;
Fast fading Nibble cover’d up in leaves;
And AYG’s eldest child,
The coming Ena, full of Moonie wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
Forlorn! Venator’s word is like a bell
To toil us back from Ed-land to ourselves!
Adieu! the Delphians cheat so well
As they fam’d to do, deceiving all AB elves.
Adieu! adieu! our plaintive anthem fades
To Apotheosis, over the still stream,
Up AB hill-side; and now ’tis buried deep
In the suspension-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled that music:—Do we wake, praise or sleep?
Our heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
Our senses, as though of tailcock we had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the Castle drains
One minute past, and Lie-in-King had sunk:
’Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness,—
That thou, light-winged Mamya of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of naomi green, and AB Chucks numberless,
Singest of summer in B00-throated ease.
O, for Ratter’s vintage! that hath been
Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Craftie and the country green,
Dance, and Boxtops song, and Slinky mirth!
O for a beaker full of Sunny-Dave South,
Full of the true, the blushful Carakeel-cream,
With beaded Nungate winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth;
That we may drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim:
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The Seekeerz, the fever, and the fret
Here, AB men sit and hear each other groan;
Where Murray shakes a few, sqad, last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and postdog-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And Venator-eyed despairs,
Where Jogger Jayne cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
Away! away! for we will fly to thee,
Not charioted by PolarBear and her pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the Miss Meg perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! tender is the night,
And haply the Lady Alex is on her throne,
Cluster’d around by all her starry Fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the Bakers blown
Through Ankou glooms and winding Gitty ways.
We cannot see what Daisy Nonnas are at our feet,
Nor Flip-the-Switch hangs upon the boughs,
But, in Rowan darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The TonyV, the thicket, and the Jack-Hat wild;
White hawthorn, and D97 eglantine;
Fast fading Nibble cover’d up in leaves;
And AYG’s eldest child,
The coming Ena, full of Moonie wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
Forlorn! Venator’s word is like a bell
To toil us back from Ed-land to ourselves!
Adieu! the Delphians cheat so well
As they fam’d to do, deceiving all AB elves.
Adieu! adieu! our plaintive anthem fades
To Apotheosis, over the still stream,
Up AB hill-side; and now ’tis buried deep
In the suspension-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled that music:—Do we wake, praise or sleep?
Evening milady and to all present. For the rifle I have a packet of wild flower seeds (nowhere left to scatter them), some Nectar points, courtesy Southern Electric. No idea what to do with them and resent being seen as a charity case.
Why not just reduce charges? Lastly a jar of baby beetroot, BOGOF from the Co-op. Not really wanted but easier to accept than to deal with the histrionics of the till person. How much beetroot can one person eat?
Desperate for a nibble and a sup.
Your felineship, please be careful of my outer garment. It has its nth birthday soon. Oh, and don't feed the broomstick. He is on a diet.
Why not just reduce charges? Lastly a jar of baby beetroot, BOGOF from the Co-op. Not really wanted but easier to accept than to deal with the histrionics of the till person. How much beetroot can one person eat?
Desperate for a nibble and a sup.
Your felineship, please be careful of my outer garment. It has its nth birthday soon. Oh, and don't feed the broomstick. He is on a diet.
Good evening, I do hope I am not late. Just flown in from Barcelona where I went to watch a footie game, the llama is currently visiting his family in the Trossachs, poor thing hasn't recovered from the incident with the croc in the moat last week. Consequently he has been "shedding" like never before, so I am offering 3 bags of llama hair as a prize in the rafa - useful for padding saddles (llama or otherwise) of if the winner is so inclined to be spun into pipe lagging.
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