A nice silver flask.. One needs to be sociable. cicek A Gold Sovereign or two.. maybe more than a fe

Colonel Blackthorn-Badger For those few of you who may need reminding; I am Colonel, The Honourable Dugal Blackthorn-Badger; 79th. Regiment of Foot, 51st. Highland Division,(S.A.S), (Ret.) GCMG, OBE, MC, DSO, The Great Star of Delli, and the much coveted - Red and Black Order of Faisal The Bloody Minded. I have been badgered - so to speak - to trip into the world of the calculating machine to share my favourite poems. Poems for cold winter nights beside the fire, with your sleepy dog, a nice bottle from Jura, a plate of fresh made scones and some Dutriez jam. So here I am and pleased to meet you I must say. Now some pedants have noticed that some of these poems are no poems at all – they are lyrics… cicek Good Lord have you sold your imagination to the twice dammed Sassenach? Off with you now. Go watch the television - you'r no wanted here.. View my complete profile
TÍR NA NÓG Fadó fadó Éirinn, roimh theacht don nua-aois, Bhí conaí ann ar an bhFiann, Fionn 's a mhac Oisín Is iomaí eachtra a bhain leo siúd, Is iomaí casadh croí, Ach ní dhéanfar dearmad ar an lá A bhuail Oisín le Niamh. Niamh Chinn Ór, as Tír na nÓg, B'í an bhean ab áille gné a chas ar Oisín Óg Mheall cicek í é le breathacht, Mheall sí é le póg, Mheall sí é gan aon agó Go Tír na nÓg Bhí Oisín, lá brea gréine, Ag siúl le ciumhais na habhann ' Measc blathanna buí, is luachra, Taibhsíodh dó an tsamhail, Spéirbhean ghléigeal álainn A d'fhag croí an laoich sin fann, Thug cuireadh dó go ír na nÓg Go síoraí cónaí ann. Tír álainn, tír na hóige, Tír dhiamhair aislingí Trí chéad bliain chaith Oisín ann I ngrá mór le Niamh Ach fonn nár fhág é choíche, Is nach bhféadfadh sé a chloí, Dul thar n-ais go hÉirinn, Go bhfeichfeadh sé í arís. "Ná fág an áit seo," arsa Niamh "Ná himigh uaim, a chroí" "Ma fhágann tusa Tír na nÓg, Nó fhillfidh tú arís." Ach d'fhill Oisín ar Éirinn, Mar bhí fiabhras ina chroí Is fuair sé bás ós comhair an Naoimh B'shin deireadh lena thriall. Tír na nÓg, ó Tír na nÓg, Tír uasal na draíochta a bhí ann fadó, Féach thiar ansin í Thiar ar fhíor na spéire San áit go mba mhaith liom bheith, Sin Tír na nÓg, Colm Mac Séalaigh
A nice silver flask.. One needs to be sociable. cicek A Gold Sovereign or two.. maybe more than a few. No Euros mind At least one passport ... the red ones are best a garotte in your boot... dont want to disturb the neighbours A sword cane.. you never know Big bag of oatmeal.. doubles cicek as a pillow Perhaps cicek an RPG.. Things are not what they used to be. Best be prepared. The Michelin guide for Constantinople Some work of Plutarch's Clean socks Atlas Shrugged - kindling is often in short supply.
The Great Black Lump
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