Showing posts with label Romans. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Romans. Show all posts

Monday, July 13, 2026

Are Mice Nice? Comical poem number 807 by Angela Lansbury

The flats nearby

Troubled by mice

Have set out traps

Will they suffice?


 I have read that

Romans ate mice

Only dormice

Or any mice?


Dormouse. Photo from Wikipedia.

If that is so

Then mice taste nice

A handy meal

At a low price!


You could cook with

White or brown rice

Maybe disguised

Chopped up like dice


On a kebab

Or sandwich slice

Just twice a week

Or even thrice


You don't like that?

Then get a cat

Fussy pussy

Will scare off mice


They'll disappear

In a quick trice

You'll no more fear

To meet those mice.

-ends-

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Thursday, February 15, 2018

Funny Flowers In The Snow



It's sunny, then it's snowing
I see new flowers in the snow
The weather has confused them
I wonder if the dumb things know

They're silly, but they're pretty -
Now the sun's come out again!
I suppose they had a nice drink
From this morning's dismal rain

The whole world is a cemetery
The dinosaurs are turned to stone
But we've got cute little plastic ones
To please keen kids in every home

The pharaohs left a lot behind
Dead bodies wrapped in gold
Paintings on floors and ceilings
Great, cursed wonders to behold

The Romans with their weapons
Left their helmets, walls, old stones
Left their language, their heritage
Their glory, gravestones, meatless bones

Scary Vikings under London's buildings
Plague victims under passing trains
Madame Tussaud's, pop stars and horror
Some things best not seen again

Yes, the whole world's a cemetery
Great-grandparents buried underground
Just as well, they wouldn't like it
With our neighbour's loud jazz sounds

After my life's rollercoaster
I don't want to leave you tears
Better some jokes and laughter
To help you struggle through your muddled years

Yes, the whole world is a cemetery
Know we're all built on crumbled past
As we've been taught, life is too short
Most things, thank God, do not last

Shut your eyes, in prisons, hospitals
So in your last dark hours
In your mind paint pretty pictures
Of the stupid, happy flowers

Be mindful, in the present
Watch where you leap, step, go
But when in doubt, remember
Daft, sweet flowers in the snow.

copyright Angela Lansbury Feb 15 2018