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Spike Milligan poem. Help.
Profile | Posted by | Options | Post Date |
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Maureen | Report | 16 Oct 2004 23:08 |
I read a Spike Milligan poem years ago that I loved at the time but now can't remember much about it. I often think I would like to read it again so thought I'd ask on here ( you rarely disappoint me). The title was something like "swinging on the garden gate" and I think it was about two children talking to each other while they were swinging on the gate. Get your thinking caps on, before Lynda comes up with the answer (hopefully). Maureen |
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Unknown | Report | 16 Oct 2004 23:29 |
I eat my peas with honey I've done it all my life. It makes the peas taste funny, But it keeps them on the knife. |
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Carolyn | Report | 16 Oct 2004 23:43 |
Sorry Maureen I can't remember the one you're talking about but my favourite one was 'Granny'. I know it started off... Through every nook and every cranny The wind blew in on poor old granny I had to recite it at school once but couldn't do it now! Carolyn |
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Mags | Report | 17 Oct 2004 05:38 |
Boy Girl Garden gate Standing kissing Very late! Dad comes! Big boots Boy runs Girl scoots! Is this the one you meant? Magsx |
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maggiewinchester | Report | 17 Oct 2004 12:56 |
These aren't the ones you want, just a couple I can remember Why is there no monument to porridge in this land, If it's good enough to eat, it's good enough to stand. She stood on the bridge at midnight, Her lips were all a-quiver. She gave a cough, Her leg fell off, and floated down the river. maggie |
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Researching: |
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Maureen | Report | 17 Oct 2004 14:11 |
Not the right one yet! I've got most of Spikes poems but not this one. Thanks for replies anyway. |
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Unknown | Report | 17 Oct 2004 17:00 |
People who live in Glass Houses, Should pull down the shades when Removing their trousers. |
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Maureen | Report | 17 Oct 2004 17:19 |
Thanks for that site address Christina, I've had a search and didn't find it. I'm starting to think I dreamt it! |
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Bren from Oldham | Report | 17 Oct 2004 19:05 |
I saw a piece of something What it was I cannot say You see that piece of something Was going the other way Suddenly that piece of something Turned round and back again I just couldn't see it Because of the rain Just then that piece of something Shot up in the air As far as I know that something Is possibly still up there Couldn't find the one you are looking for Bren |
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Bob | Report | 17 Oct 2004 19:08 |
This is strange. Definately not Spike but I couldn't find anything else like it. This was the best but probably not what you want. The Garden Gate A lady she was raised to be. Part of a leading family. Quite musical. Artistic too And well bred from her head to shoe. She always meant to be sedate, But swinging on the garden gate Was such a sweet delight, she found, Whenever no one was around! The gate was iron, wide and tall And fastened to an old brick wall. It's hinges oiled, so it could be Swung back and forth, quite easily. So after lunch, when others slept And with great stealthiness, she crept Along the path, to swing and sway Part of the afternoon away. With one foot on the bottom bar, Just give a push and there you are, A-flying through the air and then You do the same thing back again. Then one day, swinging on the sly, She saw a young man passing by And as the gate swung through its arc, He looked at her. There was a spark That flew between them instantly. He stopped to keep her company. Then when he turned to go at last, He caught her hand and held it fast. "I know," he told her with a grin, "About the trouble you'd be in If your folks were notified And told about this sin you hide. So think this over carefully. I won't tell if you marry me!" Before not many months went by And with a glimmer in her eye, She married him at seventeen. But then she left the wedding scene! She married him but made him wait For one last swing upon that gate! Published in Poet's Paper, 1998 © Betty Lou Hebert |
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Maxine | Report | 17 Oct 2004 19:29 |
There was a young soldier called Edser When wanted was always in bed sir One morning at one They fired the gun And Edser, in bed sir, was died sir My son Joseph aged 9yrs loves Spike Milligans poems he has a great book called A Childrens Treasury of Spike Milligan. Maxine |