minstrel: More poetry -- again making a pest of myself.

[DKKADE at aol.com]

A Poem About Nothing
by Brigid Kavanagh - Shire of Rokeclif

This is a poem about nothing.
No flowing words about gardens or trees.
No tales of the birds and the bees,
Because, this is a poem of nothing.

This is a poem about nothing.
No winking stars in the evening skies.
No mysteries or lovely eyes,
No, this is truly about nothing.

This is a poem about something.
Of this, I truly now know.
It's so very odd how things can go.
Because, this poem is something about nothing.


The Ballad of Marcus Anthony
by Brigid Kavanagh - Shire of Rokeclif

Upon the throne of Rome there stood the Lord of land and sea.
And at his side, stood tall and proud, the mighty Marcus Anthony.
Their hearts drew the Lots of Fate of the peoples in their lands.
Within battle or within the crown, they stood as brothers, sword in hand.

When the time came that battle called, and began the fray,
The two fought enemies man to man, side by side that day.
The war was bitter, much was lost, and the dying Lord did decree,
"Never forget that above all else, you were my brother, Marcus Anthony."

The Jester
by Brigid Kavanagh - Shire of Rokeclif

I am a fool,
Tee ho, Tee hee,
I dance and play so merrily.
I am the jester,
I laugh and play,
But laugh with me do I pray.
I am the jokester.
Giggle and squeal.
Play cards with me, I will deal.
I am a trickster, 
Oh yes its true.
Careful, my jokes may be on you.

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