Now that would be a good idea to reprise for the country as a whole.
The Wombles have good motivations and community.
While everyone else enjoys their holiday Flick, sorry Chipster the fire engine stood ready for the covid cultists
Mummy said it’s ok to talk to you.
Jeremy You are wonderful, gratie.
We can only hope and dream he’s looking for Magic Mushrooms.
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
(There’s those vexing anti-vaxxers, protesters and swelledhead farmers again)!
“ Within the woodlands flow’ry gladed
By the oak trees mossy root
The shining grass blades timber shaded
Now do quiver under foot”
‘Linden Lea’. Vaughan Williams
Hipkins MP is hearing The Bells. Not those of Quasimodo but of Edgar Allan Poe. …Hear the tolling of the bells—
Iron bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In the silence of the night,
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy menace of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a groan.
And the people—ah, the people—
They that dwell up in the steeple,
All alone,
And who tolling, tolling, tolling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone—
They are neither man nor woman—
They are neither brute nor human—
They are Ghouls:
And their king it is who tolls;…
The sounds of the verses, specifically the repetitive “bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells,” lie on a narrow line between sense and nonsense, causing a feeling of instability. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Bells_(poem)
“ The Wombles of Wimbledon Common are we…”
Now that would be a good idea to reprise for the country as a whole.
The Wombles have good motivations and community.
While everyone else enjoys their holiday Flick, sorry Chipster the fire engine stood ready for the covid cultists
Mummy said it’s ok to talk to you.
Jeremy You are wonderful, gratie.
We can only hope and dream he’s looking for Magic Mushrooms.
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
(There’s those vexing anti-vaxxers, protesters and swelledhead farmers again)!
Thanks to Wordsworth) https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45521/i-wandered-lonely-as-a-cloud
Is this the yellow brick road
The hills are alive with the sound of omicron…
I think ir’s oh-my-god.
“ Within the woodlands flow’ry gladed
By the oak trees mossy root
The shining grass blades timber shaded
Now do quiver under foot”
‘Linden Lea’. Vaughan Williams
Hipkins MP is hearing The Bells. Not those of Quasimodo but of Edgar Allan Poe.
…Hear the tolling of the bells—
Iron bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In the silence of the night,
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy menace of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a groan.
And the people—ah, the people—
They that dwell up in the steeple,
All alone,
And who tolling, tolling, tolling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone—
They are neither man nor woman—
They are neither brute nor human—
They are Ghouls:
And their king it is who tolls;…
The sounds of the verses, specifically the repetitive “bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells,” lie on a narrow line between sense and nonsense, causing a feeling of instability.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Bells_(poem)
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