Moo Indigo-the ballad of Doris and Flo.

We are the trailer cows

Feel free to have a browse

It’s so fine to have you near.

 

Whenever you are feeling low

Take a breath real slow

And know we are here to cheer.

 

We munch and chew our cud

Wherever we are stood

We have no worries or fear.

 

We like it by the trailer

From here we can see who mailed ya

And our presence brings you here.

 

We like to swish and moo

We’ll always make room for you

Just don’t stand too near our rear.

 

Moove over Duke-love from Doris and Flo…

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

This is intended to be fun. It was written for d’Verse poetics and inspired by the beautiful and emotive photography by Sharon Knight. This image was entitled Trailer Cows and was from https://sunearthsky.com/

We were given permission to borrow the images.

I liked all the images and would have enjoyed writing about many of them but this one captured my imagination the most. I was taken by the two cows, whom I named Doris and Flo.

 

Duck dis-grace.

Nothing says grace like a swan

But I don’t have a picture of a swan

So here is a poem about a duck.

 

Waddling through the grass

Wiggling my feathery ass

Who says I am an ugly duck

 

Quack-Quacking noisily as I go

Waddling my ass to and fro

Falling over like a dis-graceful duck

 

I take to the air in flight

I flap flap with all my might

Gliding over skylights I cluck

 

The breeze sets me disgracefully free

Soon other disgraceful ducks join with me

As we fly in formation how beautiful we look…….

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

Quack Quack. Honk Honk. Happy New Year…..

For d’Verse….

 

 

 

 

Winter boogie-woogie

 

Starlings on the rooves

Hip-hop hopping, tip-tap tapping

Snow stomping flappy happy

Getting in the winter mood.

 

Fiery looking foxes putting on their groove

Foxtrotting through the frosty frozen fauna

Racing hastily through the forest

Working on their festive foxy moves

 

Red squirrels with dancing shoes

Snowy soft shoe shimmy shuffle

Acorn tapping troubadours

working the winter wonderland blues.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

Getting the groove on for d’Verse...

 

Ode to the brogue- the ginnel of love.

When I grew up in days of old

And the sun set over yonder

Old folks spoke in northern brogue

It made me stop and ponder.

 

In the backstreets of old Rossendale

Where buxom lasses were bonny

We spoke with a local dialect

And people say we talked funny.

 

In claggy weather we had council pop

Winter woollies when feeling nesh

Mam put our mittens on a string

It made us kids look gormless

 

If we mithered we were clattered

Told to keep our cakeholes shut

They chided us umpteen times

To keep the back door shut.

 

We played hide and seek in ginnels

Cleared snow from neighbours paths

Skriked our way through family traumas

Sweated cobs when’t’sun were’t crackin flags.

 

We spoke a different language

Didn’t give tuppence for what you thought

We’d go t’foot of our stairs

If anyone sold us short.

 

Fresh air and love we lived off,

With Church socials on a Saturday night

We might have not talked proper

But we treated each other right.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson

Image Eden Methodist Walking Day- C 1972

Image Eden Methodist Walking Day- C 1979

I am linking this for the last OLN at d’Verse.

IMG_1756

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Brogue: a way of speaking Englishespecially that of Irish or Scottishspeakers:

Someone had to do it…. Take 5.

Brubeck Blues

Sax to the beat

wilful wistful wily

Drifting down the street

Repeat.

 

Piano vamping

Blues scaling

E flat minor Brubeck stomping

Five four time, once more

Five four time.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson

For d’Verse….TAKE 5…..

Image Wikimedia

 

 

 

 

 

Feel that walking bass…

On the one level

it was a tango fandango.

A pink flamingo

a daring dance of dating

in the early throes of spring.

 

 

Shrill trumpet rising

sounds of Chuck Mangione

staccato toccata- reminiscent of Children of Sanchez

Conspiring to court Consuelo’s love

With a pink flamingo face.

 

One legged lover

with snazzy syncopated rhythm

with a strut to the left olé

and a strut to the right olé

strum that walking bass.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson

Things have been out of kilter this month and hence I am a little behind in things.

For d’Verse….

This is Tuesday’s poetics prompt that I didn’t finish….merging with meeting at the bar- and all that jazz….incidentally I think pink flamingoes merge well with jazz…

Links to Chuck..

Children of Sanchez

The image is from Wikipedia and has creative commons licence:

File: James’s Flamingo mating ritual.jpg

http://www.flickr.com/people/pedrosz/

by Pedros Szekely,

 

 

Shades of 50.

It is done, my fiftieth birthday year finally gone

Kicked the ass out of that, had a bit of fun

Moved house and home,

And now it is done.

Heartaches and happiness all in one.

What a year, glad to move on to 51.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson

this is a bit cheesy but all I could muster for this week’s Quadrille at d’Verse. I celebrated my fiftieth birthday in hospital and it has been a roller-coaster of a year and I think some of the biggest dips were in the last week, so I was a bit quiet….So tomorrow I start a new day, and a new year… and I will be 51.

I miss my Ellen though and would love to have her home with me. XXXX