Karen of Baking in a Tornado has joined us in this crazy pursuit, and promises us at least a poem a month - may we hope for more! I think this theme should entice her to participate.
SpikesBestMate often publishes a nice verse in the comments.
Jenny at Procrastinating Donkey who has been a faithful participant, is slowly returning to blogging after her husband's passing from this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of prayers her way. And dare we hope that she will join Poetry Monday again.
Well, as usual when asked for my favourite whatever, I'm in troubles. I do not have one favourite, but more; depending on season, time, weather and mood. But my most memorable record - now that's an easy question. I wrote about it once before - in Susan's tale: A Trip to Bakken.
We had a very smart record player. It had an in-built thingie that let you stack 12 records and then played them one at a time; of course only the sides turned upwards ;)
Today's rhyme is more folk song army than anything else, well "Ready, aim, sing!"
My favourite record is called The 78
That we met one another was decided by fate.
It is long ago now, I remember it still.
And when I think of the record, it gives me a thrill
I think I still know all its songs by heart
For such play with words I just loved from the start.
It had crazy songs named: My Hat would be pleased,
In Dreamland we met with The Count out of Nowhere.
It was nonsense and joy, and we learned all the songs
I played on my guitar and we sang along,
As we sat round the fires in warm summer nights.
We were young, we were happy, the future was bright.
And here I stop, before the grown up me raise a moral index finger.
- - - - - - - - - -
Next Monday we'll rhyme about Chia Pets
Oooh! Awesome poem AND memories! And now I'M remember my Dad's 78 collection. And such hits as Horace the Horse and Smokey the Bear.
SvarSletWe also had quite a collections of 78s. I think I have them still somewhere. Those titles are new to me - thanks for yet another rabbit hole ;)
SletDays where 'We were young, we were happy, the future was bright'... are precious and your poem brings them back. We still have some records (and a turn table). Perhaps it is time to bring them out again.
SvarSletThose records deserve a dusting off now and then. I hvan't got a turn table any more, sadly.
SletWhat a joy those old records were (and are, when you can find them and play them again).
SvarSletWe had many good hours together, they deserve better than a dusty attic.
SletGood poem, I haven't thought about records for a long time. I have some, packed away somewhere.
SvarSletTime to look for hidden treasures.
Slet