START of the collaborative poem FOR HOMEWORK

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Maureen K Clifford
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Re: START of the collaborative poem FOR HOMEWORK

Post by Maureen K Clifford » Tue May 25, 2021 10:38 am

OK - with my verse I have turned the story to the next twist in the tale - HOWEVER ....... if anyone wants to keep the original part going feel free to insert your verses in before mine.

Nothing is set in concrete here - and it is just a bit of fun :lol:

Original Post by Maureen K Clifford » Sat May 22, 2021 10:11 am

COLLABORATIVE POEM - Writing Workshop

They cruised through ancient gorges, and past towering red stone cliffs
they stopped a while to load at Waikerie
and all the while the Murray simply flowed slowly along
past red gum forests and aged river scree.
The Paddlewheels turned slowly - and loud birdsong filled the air
the cerulean sky clear and cloudfree,
to right and left were vineyards struggling to grasp a hold
forerunners of a new wine industry.
MKC

The bow waves, in symmetry, rippled calmly to each bank
and lapped at ever changing watermarks,
and gave a sense of solace to a bloke of shady past,
as he pondered, the magistrates remarks!
But the chance to work a passage to a future unknown
gave hope to start afresh in new landmarks
so there upon the river he decided to reform
and have nought, but conscientious benchmarks!
R.B.

Reflecting on his Mary, whom he’d long ago let down
by bringing shady dealings to her door,
he cursed his gross stupidity and hoped in time to prove
his worthiness and win her love once more.
As paddlewheels rotated in a comforting refrain,
he pondered opportunities ahead;
a profitable future in a venture fresh and new—
a chance for happiness in life instead.
CL

The year was 1894 and time was ripe for change
at Waikerie – the place of “many wings” –
inhabited by birds that filled the wetlands and lagoons
and rose above the craggy cliffs like kings.
They’d granted him permission to be one of those who came
to form controlled expansion that involved
experimental settlement that may succeed or fail –
depending on what challenges were solved.
SJH

His Mary waited for him - she forgave his wicked ways
she saw the true man hiding in the shell
of the wastrel and the wanderer - the one who'd always fail,
who'd let her down and was a ne're do well
in some folks eyes, not hers it seems, for she loved this man true
and knew that he would make good given time.
They'd planned a life together - he was following his dream -
searching for land on which to grow the vine.
MKC


He sensed an opportunity was reaching out to him
this day, Just Waiting here for him to find.
Reminding him of not so long ago, when dreams and hopes
about a better life had filled his mind.
Away from squalid city life - a longing to be free
and leave behind the daily city grind.
Then settle down with Mary who had changed his wayward ways,
for which for many years he’d been so blind.
TEP

But in the world of shattered dreams and teary broken hearts
Alas! Poor Mary had not been alone,
for he had called himself Bill in his dealings of deceit
and what a devious path he had known!
But with the given names of, Cuthbert, Horace Percival,
he’d tried to leave that, all back in the past,
For he had sailed to Australia a remittance man
And ‘twas the ‘Old Dart’ where his mould was cast!
R.B.

But now, in this new land, the time had come to make his choice
to leave the past behind – begin anew -
not let past failings daunt him in a place where many shared
the secret sins that only convicts knew.
So as he stood with Mary on their vibrant virgin soil,
imagining the sunset on the vines
they’d plant and cultivate with sons and daughters by their side -
he felt a surge of hope, like mellow wines.
SJH
......
One hundred years have flown by it's now 1994
the PS Marion just chugs along
she's near one hundred years old too, her life full of changes -
though still her stalwart heart is going strong.
The vineyards on the river are all heavy with the grape
a bumper crop's been predicted this year.
On board a tall and rangy bloke - great, great grandson of Bill,
and Mary . He's an esteemed British peer
MKC
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/


I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.

Terry
Posts: 3287
Joined: Mon Nov 01, 2010 6:53 pm

Re: START of the collaborative poem FOR HOMEWORK

Post by Terry » Tue May 25, 2021 6:05 pm

COLLABORATIVE POEM - Writing Workshop

They cruised through ancient gorges, and past towering red stone cliffs
they stopped a while to load at Waikerie
and all the while the Murray simply flowed slowly along
past red gum forests and aged river scree.
The Paddlewheels turned slowly - and loud birdsong filled the air
the cerulean sky clear and cloudfree,
to right and left were vineyards struggling to grasp a hold
forerunners of a new wine industry.
MKC

The bow waves, in symmetry, rippled calmly to each bank
and lapped at ever changing watermarks,
and gave a sense of solace to a bloke of shady past,
as he pondered, the magistrates remarks!
But the chance to work a passage to a future unknown
gave hope to start afresh in new landmarks
so there upon the river he decided to reform
and have nought, but conscientious benchmarks!
R.B.

Reflecting on his Mary, whom he’d long ago let down
by bringing shady dealings to her door,
he cursed his gross stupidity and hoped in time to prove
his worthiness and win her love once more.
As paddlewheels rotated in a comforting refrain,
he pondered opportunities ahead;
a profitable future in a venture fresh and new—
a chance for happiness in life instead.
CL

The year was 1894 and time was ripe for change
at Waikerie – the place of “many wings” –
inhabited by birds that filled the wetlands and lagoons
and rose above the craggy cliffs like kings.
They’d granted him permission to be one of those who came
to form controlled expansion that involved
experimental settlement that may succeed or fail –
depending on what challenges were solved.
SJH

His Mary waited for him - she forgave his wicked ways
she saw the true man hiding in the shell
of the wastrel and the wanderer - the one who'd always fail,
who'd let her down and was a ne're do well
in some folks eyes, not hers it seems, for she loved this man true
and knew that he would make good given time.
They'd planned a life together - he was following his dream -
searching for land on which to grow the vine.
MKC

He sensed an opportunity was reaching out to him
this day, Just Waiting here for him to find.
Reminding him of not so long ago, when dreams and hopes
about a better life had filled his mind.
Away from squalid city life - a longing to be free
and leave behind the daily city grind.
Then settle down with Mary who had changed his wayward ways,
for which for many years he’d been so blind.
TEP

But in the world of shattered dreams and teary broken hearts
Alas! Poor Mary had not been alone,
for he had called himself Bill in his dealings of deceit
and what a devious path he had known!
But with the given names of, Cuthbert, Horace Percival,
he’d tried to leave that, all back in the past,
For he had sailed to Australia a remittance man
And ‘twas the ‘Old Dart’ where his mould was cast!
R.B.

But now, in this new land, the time had come to make his choice
to leave the past behind – begin anew -
not let past failings daunt him in a place where many shared
the secret sins that only convicts knew.
So as he stood with Mary on their vibrant virgin soil,
imagining the sunset on the vines
they’d plant and cultivate with sons and daughters by their side -
he felt a surge of hope, like mellow wines.
SJH

One hundred years have flown by it's now 1994
the PS Marion just chugs along
she's near one hundred years old too, her life full of changes -
though still her stalwart heart is going strong.
The vineyards on the river are all heavy with the grape
a bumper crop's been predicted this year.
On board a tall and rangy bloke - great, great grandson of Bill,
and Mary . He's an esteemed British peer
MKC

He knows about his forbear’s past and smiles a secret smile,
although a frown now creeps across his dial.
For danger surely lurked here if the truth were to unfold -
and Lady Jane Felicity were told.
He’d told her that his family were all of noble stock,
the truth he knew would send her into shock.
Especially about the way their fortune had been made,
when Great Granddad had run the slavers trade.
TEP
Opps messed that up didn't I (wrong rhyming pattern- sorry)

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Maureen K Clifford
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Re: START of the collaborative poem FOR HOMEWORK

Post by Maureen K Clifford » Fri May 28, 2021 8:12 am

Well you did a bit Terry, :lol: but I like the twist the story is taking - so how about having another go at it Terry keeping to the same rhyming pattern as the other verses.

Just to try and keep it all kosher I double checked the facts on being a British peer as well - it can be an inherited title, but these days most peers are appointed . You don't have to be born into nobility, or inherit a peerage, to be a Baroness or a Baron. You can be named one by the Prime Minister, as long as the Queen approves. Nominees for a peerage are put forward by the different political parties when the Prime Minister resigns, and also at the start of a new Parliament. Members of the House of Lords are sometimes referred to as peers. Most members are Life Peers although 92 sit by virtue of hereditary title. Life Peers are appointed by the monarch on the advice of the Prime Minister to serve for their life; the title is not transferable. Only an act of parliament that has received royal assent can revoke a peerage permanently. ... At present, the House of Lords, therefore, only has the power to suspend members for a maximum period of up to five years – the length of any one parliament.

Life peers were to be chosen from senior judges, civil servants, senior officers of the British Army or Royal Navy, members of the House of Commons who had served for at least ten years, scientists, writers, artists, peers of Scotland, and peers of Ireland.

So that being said, and since your verse indicates the bloke lied about his 'families nobility' - let us assume that this bloke is an appointed Life peer with the title of Baron - but perhaps wanting to fly under the radar, not using the title in Australia.
Last edited by Maureen K Clifford on Sun May 30, 2021 9:36 am, edited 1 time in total.
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/


I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.

Terry
Posts: 3287
Joined: Mon Nov 01, 2010 6:53 pm

Re: START of the collaborative poem FOR HOMEWORK

Post by Terry » Fri May 28, 2021 10:45 am

‎COLLABORATIVE POEM - Writing Workshop‎
‎ ‎They cruised through ancient gorges, and past towering red stone cliffs‎
‎ they stopped a while to load at Waikerie‎
‎ and all the while the Murray simply flowed slowly along‎
‎ past red gum forests and aged river scree. ‎
‎ The Paddlewheels turned slowly - and loud birdsong filled the air‎
‎ the cerulean sky clear and cloudfree,‎
‎ to right and left were vineyards struggling to grasp a hold‎
‎ forerunners of a new wine industry. ‎
‎ MKC‎
‎ ‎
‎ The bow waves, in symmetry, rippled calmly to each bank‎
‎ and lapped at ever changing watermarks,‎
‎ and gave a sense of solace to a bloke of shady past,‎
‎ as he pondered, the magistrates remarks! ‎
‎ But the chance to work a passage to a future unknown‎
‎ gave hope to start afresh in new landmarks‎
‎ so there upon the river he decided to reform‎
‎ and have nought, but conscientious benchmarks! ‎
‎ R.B.‎
‎ ‎
‎ Reflecting on his Mary, whom he’d long ago let down‎
‎ by bringing shady dealings to her door,‎
‎ he cursed his gross stupidity and hoped in time to prove‎
‎ his worthiness and win her love once more. ‎
‎ As paddlewheels rotated in a comforting refrain,‎
‎ he pondered opportunities ahead; ‎
‎ a profitable future in a venture fresh and new—‎
‎ a chance for happiness in life instead. ‎
‎ CL‎
‎ ‎
‎ The year was 1894 and time was ripe for change‎
‎ at Waikerie – the place of “many wings” –‎
‎ inhabited by birds that filled the wetlands and lagoons‎
‎ and rose above the craggy cliffs like kings. ‎
‎ They’d granted him permission to be one of those who came‎
‎ to form controlled expansion that involved‎
‎ experimental settlement that may succeed or fail –‎
depending on what challenges were solved. ‎
‎ SJH‎
‎ ‎
‎ His Mary waited for him - she forgave his wicked ways‎
‎ she saw the true man hiding in the shell‎
‎ of the wastrel and the wanderer - the one who'd always fail,‎
‎ who'd let her down and was a ne're do well‎
‎ in some folks eyes, not hers it seems, for she loved this man true‎
‎ and knew that he would make good given time. ‎
‎ They'd planned a life together - he was following his dream -‎
‎ searching for land on which to grow the vine. ‎
‎ MKC‎
‎ ‎
‎ He sensed an opportunity was reaching out to him‎
‎ this day, Just Waiting here for him to find. ‎
‎ Reminding him of not so long ago, when dreams and hopes‎
‎ about a better life had filled his mind. ‎
‎ Away from squalid city life - a longing to be free‎
‎ and leave behind the daily city grind. ‎
‎ Then settle down with Mary who had changed his wayward ways,‎
‎ for which for many years he’d been so blind. ‎
‎ TEP‎
‎ ‎
‎ But in the world of shattered dreams and teary broken hearts‎
‎ Alas! Poor Mary had not been alone,‎
‎ for he had called himself Bill in his dealings of deceit‎
‎ and what a devious path he had known! ‎
‎ But with the given names of, Cuthbert, Horace Percival,‎
‎ he’d tried to leave that, all back in the past,‎
‎ For he had sailed to Australia a remittance man‎
‎ And ‘twas the ‘Old Dart’ where his mould was cast! ‎
‎ R.B.‎
‎ ‎
‎ But now, in this new land, the time had come to make his choice‎
‎ to leave the past behind – begin anew -‎
‎ not let past failings daunt him in a place where many shared‎
‎ the secret sins that only convicts knew. ‎
‎ So as he stood with Mary on their vibrant virgin soil,‎
‎ imagining the sunset on the vines‎
‎ they’d plant and cultivate with sons and daughters by their side -‎
‎ he felt a surge of hope, like mellow wines. ‎
‎ SJH‎
‎ ‎
‎ One hundred years have flown by it's now 1994‎
‎ the PS Marion just chugs along‎
‎ she's near one hundred years old too, her life full of changes -‎
‎ though still her stalwart heart is going strong. ‎
‎ The vineyards on the river are all heavy with the grape‎
‎ a bumper crop's been predicted this year. ‎
‎ On board a tall and rangy bloke - great, great grandson of Bill,‎
and Mary . He's an esteemed British peer
MKC

He knows about his forebear’s past and smiles a secret smile,
yet worries should the story now unfold.
For danger surely lurked here if the murky truth be known,
and lady Jane Felicity were told.
He ‘d told her that his family were all of noble stock,
the truth would stay a secret now he prayed.
Especially about the way their fortune came to be,
when Great Granddad had run the slavers trade.
TEP

User avatar
Maureen K Clifford
Posts: 8047
Joined: Tue Nov 09, 2010 10:31 am
Location: Ipswich - Paul Pisasale country and home of the Ipswich Poetry Feast
Contact:

Re: START of the collaborative poem FOR HOMEWORK

Post by Maureen K Clifford » Fri May 28, 2021 12:35 pm

Whoo Hoo - good on you Terry - that was quick :lol:
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/


I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.

User avatar
Maureen K Clifford
Posts: 8047
Joined: Tue Nov 09, 2010 10:31 am
Location: Ipswich - Paul Pisasale country and home of the Ipswich Poetry Feast
Contact:

Re: START of the collaborative poem FOR HOMEWORK

Post by Maureen K Clifford » Fri May 28, 2021 1:40 pm

COLLABORATIVE POEM - Writing Workshop‎

‎ ‎They cruised through ancient gorges, and past towering red stone cliffs‎
‎ they stopped a while to load at Waikerie‎
‎ and all the while the Murray simply flowed slowly along‎
‎ past red gum forests and aged river scree. ‎
‎ The Paddlewheels turned slowly - and loud birdsong filled the air‎
‎ the cerulean sky clear and cloudfree,‎
‎ to right and left were vineyards struggling to grasp a hold‎
‎ forerunners of a new wine industry. ‎
‎ MKC‎
‎ ‎
‎ The bow waves, in symmetry, rippled calmly to each bank‎
‎ and lapped at ever changing watermarks,‎
‎ and gave a sense of solace to a bloke of shady past,‎
‎ as he pondered, the magistrates remarks! ‎
‎ But the chance to work a passage to a future unknown‎
‎ gave hope to start afresh in new landmarks‎
‎ so there upon the river he decided to reform‎
‎ and have nought, but conscientious benchmarks! ‎
‎ R.B.‎
‎ ‎
‎ Reflecting on his Mary, whom he’d long ago let down‎
‎ by bringing shady dealings to her door,‎
‎ he cursed his gross stupidity and hoped in time to prove‎
‎ his worthiness and win her love once more. ‎
‎ As paddlewheels rotated in a comforting refrain,‎
‎ he pondered opportunities ahead; ‎
‎ a profitable future in a venture fresh and new—‎
‎ a chance for happiness in life instead. ‎
‎ CL‎
‎ ‎
‎ The year was 1894 and time was ripe for change‎
‎ at Waikerie – the place of “many wings” –‎
‎ inhabited by birds that filled the wetlands and lagoons‎
‎ and rose above the craggy cliffs like kings. ‎
‎ They’d granted him permission to be one of those who came‎
‎ to form controlled expansion that involved‎
‎ experimental settlement that may succeed or fail –‎
depending on what challenges were solved. ‎
‎ SJH‎
‎ ‎
‎ His Mary waited for him - she forgave his wicked ways‎
‎ she saw the true man hiding in the shell‎
‎ of the wastrel and the wanderer - the one who'd always fail,‎
‎ who'd let her down and was a ne're do well‎
‎ in some folks eyes, not hers it seems, for she loved this man true‎
‎ and knew that he would make good given time. ‎
‎ They'd planned a life together - he was following his dream -‎
‎ searching for land on which to grow the vine. ‎
‎ MKC‎
‎ ‎
‎ He sensed an opportunity was reaching out to him‎
‎ this day, Just Waiting here for him to find. ‎
‎ Reminding him of not so long ago, when dreams and hopes‎
‎ about a better life had filled his mind. ‎
‎ Away from squalid city life - a longing to be free‎
‎ and leave behind the daily city grind. ‎
‎ Then settle down with Mary who had changed his wayward ways,‎
‎ for which for many years he’d been so blind. ‎
‎ TEP‎
‎ ‎
‎ But in the world of shattered dreams and teary broken hearts‎
‎ Alas! Poor Mary had not been alone,‎
‎ for he had called himself Bill in his dealings of deceit‎
‎ and what a devious path he had known! ‎
‎ But with the given names of, Cuthbert, Horace Percival,‎
‎ he’d tried to leave that, all back in the past,‎
‎ For he had sailed to Australia a remittance man‎
‎ And ‘twas the ‘Old Dart’ where his mould was cast! ‎
‎ R.B.‎
‎ ‎
‎ But now, in this new land, the time had come to make his choice‎
‎ to leave the past behind – begin anew -‎
‎ not let past failings daunt him in a place where many shared‎
‎ the secret sins that only convicts knew. ‎
‎ So as he stood with Mary on their vibrant virgin soil,‎
‎ imagining the sunset on the vines‎
‎ they’d plant and cultivate with sons and daughters by their side -‎
‎ he felt a surge of hope, like mellow wines. ‎
‎ SJH‎
‎ ‎
‎ One hundred years have flown by it's now 1994‎
‎ the PS Marion just chugs along‎
‎ she's near one hundred years old too, her life full of changes -‎
‎ though still her stalwart heart is going strong. ‎
‎ The vineyards on the river are all heavy with the grape‎
‎ a bumper crop's been predicted this year. ‎
‎ On board a tall and rangy bloke - great, great grandson of Bill,‎
and Mary . He's an esteemed British peer
MKC

He knows about his forebears past and smiles a secret smile,
yet worries should the story now unfold.
For danger surely lurked here if the murky truth be known,
and lady Jane Felicity were told.
He ‘d told her that his family were all of noble stock,
the truth would stay a secret now he prayed.
Especially about the way their fortune came to be,
when Great Granddad had run the slavers trade.
TEP

The Baron, William Cuthbert leant at ease against the rails
watching a wedgetail eagle swoop and soar.
He pondered on his title bestowed on him by the Queen
for poetry and writing - nothing more.
Today his real inheritance would fall into his hands
hard won by ancestors who'd gone before
The vines Granddad had planted years ago at Pooginook
on fertile floodplains close to Murray's shore.
MKC
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/


I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.

Ron
Posts: 740
Joined: Tue Nov 02, 2010 5:55 pm
Location: Blue Mtns.

Re: START of the collaborative poem FOR HOMEWORK

Post by Ron » Fri May 28, 2021 6:05 pm

king a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
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Re: START of the collaborative poem FOR HOMEWORK
Unread post by Maureen K Clifford » Fri May 28, 2021 3:40 am

COLLABORATIVE POEM - Writing Workshop‎

‎ ‎They cruised through ancient gorges, and past towering red stone cliffs‎
‎ they stopped a while to load at Waikerie‎
‎ and all the while the Murray simply flowed slowly along‎
‎ past red gum forests and aged river scree. ‎
‎ The Paddlewheels turned slowly - and loud birdsong filled the air‎
‎ the cerulean sky clear and cloudfree,‎
‎ to right and left were vineyards struggling to grasp a hold‎
‎ forerunners of a new wine industry. ‎
‎ MKC‎
‎ ‎
‎ The bow waves, in symmetry, rippled calmly to each bank‎
‎ and lapped at ever changing watermarks,‎
‎ and gave a sense of solace to a bloke of shady past,‎
‎ as he pondered, the magistrates remarks! ‎
‎ But the chance to work a passage to a future unknown‎
‎ gave hope to start afresh in new landmarks‎
‎ so there upon the river he decided to reform‎
‎ and have nought, but conscientious benchmarks! ‎
‎ R.B.‎
‎ ‎
‎ Reflecting on his Mary, whom he’d long ago let down‎
‎ by bringing shady dealings to her door,‎
‎ he cursed his gross stupidity and hoped in time to prove‎
‎ his worthiness and win her love once more. ‎
‎ As paddlewheels rotated in a comforting refrain,‎
‎ he pondered opportunities ahead; ‎
‎ a profitable future in a venture fresh and new—‎
‎ a chance for happiness in life instead. ‎
‎ CL‎
‎ ‎
‎ The year was 1894 and time was ripe for change‎
‎ at Waikerie – the place of “many wings” –‎
‎ inhabited by birds that filled the wetlands and lagoons‎
‎ and rose above the craggy cliffs like kings. ‎
‎ They’d granted him permission to be one of those who came‎
‎ to form controlled expansion that involved‎
‎ experimental settlement that may succeed or fail –‎
depending on what challenges were solved. ‎
‎ SJH‎
‎ ‎
‎ His Mary waited for him - she forgave his wicked ways‎
‎ she saw the true man hiding in the shell‎
‎ of the wastrel and the wanderer - the one who'd always fail,‎
‎ who'd let her down and was a ne're do well‎
‎ in some folks eyes, not hers it seems, for she loved this man true‎
‎ and knew that he would make good given time. ‎
‎ They'd planned a life together - he was following his dream -‎
‎ searching for land on which to grow the vine. ‎
‎ MKC‎
‎ ‎
‎ He sensed an opportunity was reaching out to him‎
‎ this day, Just Waiting here for him to find. ‎
‎ Reminding him of not so long ago, when dreams and hopes‎
‎ about a better life had filled his mind. ‎
‎ Away from squalid city life - a longing to be free‎
‎ and leave behind the daily city grind. ‎
‎ Then settle down with Mary who had changed his wayward ways,‎
‎ for which for many years he’d been so blind. ‎
‎ TEP‎
‎ ‎
‎ But in the world of shattered dreams and teary broken hearts‎
‎ Alas! Poor Mary had not been alone,‎
‎ for he had called himself Bill in his dealings of deceit‎
‎ and what a devious path he had known! ‎
‎ But with the given names of, Cuthbert, Horace Percival,‎
‎ he’d tried to leave that, all back in the past,‎
‎ For he had sailed to Australia a remittance man‎
‎ And ‘twas the ‘Old Dart’ where his mould was cast! ‎
‎ R.B.‎
‎ ‎
‎ But now, in this new land, the time had come to make his choice‎
‎ to leave the past behind – begin anew -‎
‎ not let past failings daunt him in a place where many shared‎
‎ the secret sins that only convicts knew. ‎
‎ So as he stood with Mary on their vibrant virgin soil,‎
‎ imagining the sunset on the vines‎
‎ they’d plant and cultivate with sons and daughters by their side -‎
‎ he felt a surge of hope, like mellow wines. ‎
‎ SJH‎
‎ ‎
‎ One hundred years have flown by it's now 1994‎
‎ the PS Marion just chugs along‎
‎ she's near one hundred years old too, her life full of changes -‎
‎ though still her stalwart heart is going strong. ‎
‎ The vineyards on the river are all heavy with the grape‎
‎ a bumper crop's been predicted this year. ‎
‎ On board a tall and rangy bloke - great, great grandson of Bill,‎
and Mary . He's an esteemed British peer
MKC

He knows about his forebears past and smiles a secret smile,
yet worries should the story now unfold.
For danger surely lurked here if the murky truth be known,
and lady Jane Felicity were told.
He ‘d told her that his family were all of noble stock,
the truth would stay a secret now he prayed.
Especially about the way their fortune came to be,
when Great Granddad had run the slavers trade.
TEP

The Baron, William Cuthbert leant at ease against the rails
watching a wedgetail eagle swoop and soar.
He pondered on his title bestowed on him by the Queen
for poetry and writing - nothing more.
Today his real inheritance would fall into his hands
hard won by ancestors who'd gone before
The vines Granddad had planted years ago at Pooginook
on fertile floodplains close to Murray's shore.
MKC

And oh! How glad he was, that Great Grandfather changed his ways
of course, with thanks to William Wilberforce!
and now, he often thought how John Newton’s ‘Amazing Grace’
did his pursuit to be a scribe, endorse!
For now he was a Baron and vast wine estates were his,
so Gentry status now was guaranteed.
But! Just like rivers change, so too, the mind of Lady Jane
when, poison whispers, planted doubtful seed!
R.B.

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Maureen K Clifford
Posts: 8047
Joined: Tue Nov 09, 2010 10:31 am
Location: Ipswich - Paul Pisasale country and home of the Ipswich Poetry Feast
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Re: START of the collaborative poem FOR HOMEWORK

Post by Maureen K Clifford » Sat May 29, 2021 11:30 am

COLLABORATIVE POEM - Writing Workshop‎

‎ ‎They cruised through ancient gorges, and past towering red stone cliffs‎
‎ they stopped a while to load at Waikerie‎
‎ and all the while the Murray simply flowed slowly along‎
‎ past red gum forests and aged river scree. ‎
‎ The Paddlewheels turned slowly - and loud birdsong filled the air‎
‎ the cerulean sky clear and cloudfree,‎
‎ to right and left were vineyards struggling to grasp a hold‎
‎ forerunners of a new wine industry. ‎
‎ MKC‎
‎ ‎
‎ The bow waves, in symmetry, rippled calmly to each bank‎
‎ and lapped at ever changing watermarks,‎
‎ and gave a sense of solace to a bloke of shady past,‎
‎ as he pondered, the magistrates remarks! ‎
‎ But the chance to work a passage to a future unknown‎
‎ gave hope to start afresh in new landmarks‎
‎ so there upon the river he decided to reform‎
‎ and have nought, but conscientious benchmarks! ‎
‎ R.B.‎
‎ ‎
‎ Reflecting on his Mary, whom he’d long ago let down‎
‎ by bringing shady dealings to her door,‎
‎ he cursed his gross stupidity and hoped in time to prove‎
‎ his worthiness and win her love once more. ‎
‎ As paddlewheels rotated in a comforting refrain,‎
‎ he pondered opportunities ahead; ‎
‎ a profitable future in a venture fresh and new—‎
‎ a chance for happiness in life instead. ‎
‎ CL‎
‎ ‎
‎ The year was 1894 and time was ripe for change‎
‎ at Waikerie – the place of “many wings” –‎
‎ inhabited by birds that filled the wetlands and lagoons‎
‎ and rose above the craggy cliffs like kings. ‎
‎ They’d granted him permission to be one of those who came‎
‎ to form controlled expansion that involved‎
‎ experimental settlement that may succeed or fail –‎
depending on what challenges were solved. ‎
‎ SJH‎
‎ ‎
‎ His Mary waited for him - she forgave his wicked ways‎
‎ she saw the true man hiding in the shell‎
‎ of the wastrel and the wanderer - the one who'd always fail,‎
‎ who'd let her down and was a ne're do well‎
‎ in some folks eyes, not hers it seems, for she loved this man true‎
‎ and knew that he would make good given time. ‎
‎ They'd planned a life together - he was following his dream -‎
‎ searching for land on which to grow the vine. ‎
‎ MKC‎
‎ ‎
‎ He sensed an opportunity was reaching out to him‎
‎ this day, Just Waiting here for him to find. ‎
‎ Reminding him of not so long ago, when dreams and hopes‎
‎ about a better life had filled his mind. ‎
‎ Away from squalid city life - a longing to be free‎
‎ and leave behind the daily city grind. ‎
‎ Then settle down with Mary who had changed his wayward ways,‎
‎ for which for many years he’d been so blind. ‎
‎ TEP‎
‎ ‎
‎ But in the world of shattered dreams and teary broken hearts‎
‎ Alas! Poor Mary had not been alone,‎
‎ for he had called himself Bill in his dealings of deceit‎
‎ and what a devious path he had known! ‎
‎ But with the given names of, Cuthbert, Horace Percival,‎
‎ he’d tried to leave that, all back in the past,‎
‎ For he'd sailed to Australia as a remittance man‎
‎ And ‘twas the ‘Old Dart’ where his mould was cast! ‎
‎ R.B.‎
‎ ‎
‎ But now, in this new land, the time had come to make his choice‎
‎ to leave the past behind – begin anew -‎
‎ not let past failings daunt him in a place where many shared‎
‎ the secret sins that only convicts knew. ‎
‎ So as he stood with Mary on their vibrant virgin soil,‎
‎ imagining the sunset on the vines‎
‎ they’d plant and cultivate with sons and daughters by their side -‎
‎ he felt a surge of hope, like mellow wines. ‎
‎ SJH‎
‎ ‎
‎ One hundred years have flown by it's now 1994‎
‎ the PS Marion just chugs along‎
‎ she's near one hundred years old too, her life full of changes -‎
‎ though still her stalwart heart is going strong. ‎
‎ The vineyards on the river are all heavy with the grape‎
‎ a bumper crop's been predicted this year. ‎
‎ On board a tall and rangy bloke - great, great grandson of Bill,‎
and Mary . He's an esteemed British peer
MKC

He knows about his forebear’s past and smiles a secret smile,
yet worries should the story now unfold.
For danger surely lurked here if the murky truth be known,
and lady Jane Felicity were told.
He ‘d told her that his family were all of noble stock,
the truth would stay a secret now he prayed.
Especially about the way their fortune came to be,
when Great Granddad had run the slavers trade.
TEP

The Baron, William Cuthbert leant at ease against the rails
watching the wavelets racing to the shore
He pondered on his title bestowed on him by the Queen
for poetry and writing - nothing more.
Today his real inheritance would fall into his hands
hard won by ancestors who'd gone before
The vines Granddad had planted years ago at Pooginook
on fertile floodplains close to Murray's shore.
MKC

And oh! How glad he was, that Great Grandfather changed his ways
of course, with thanks to William Wilberforce!
and now, he often thought how John Newton’s ‘Amazing Grace’
did his pursuit to be a scribe, endorse!
For now he was a Baron and vast wine estates were his,
so Gentry status now was guaranteed.
But! Just like rivers change, so too, the mind of Lady Jane
when, poison whispers, planted doubtful seed!
R.B.

She'd heard stories and whispers - he was thought beyond the pale
but Lady Jane was made of sturdy stock,
feisty and independent she was no weak hearted maid
her wedding plans held solid as a rock
Together they eloped and headed out for warmer climes
William, her poet, won that fair maids heart.
He could promise her nothing but his true undying love
and hard work as they both made a new start.

MKC

He'd some ideas to play with, though light-footed he would tread
and take on board his head mans expertise.
He thought perhaps a wine he'd name to try and curry favour
would be a Chardonnay - 'Felicities'.
A wicked sense of humour and a wordsmiths play on words
'Baron's Bordeaux-llo' label came to mind
A rich and feisty red aged long and gracefully in oak ,
full bodied, but the cost won't send you blind.
MKC
Last edited by Maureen K Clifford on Tue Jun 01, 2021 1:07 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/


I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.

User avatar
Maureen K Clifford
Posts: 8047
Joined: Tue Nov 09, 2010 10:31 am
Location: Ipswich - Paul Pisasale country and home of the Ipswich Poetry Feast
Contact:

Re: START of the collaborative poem FOR HOMEWORK

Post by Maureen K Clifford » Sun May 30, 2021 9:36 am

Have fun :lol: Weave the magic :lol: Keep each verse at 8 lines and in the same rhyming pattern ... 14/10 syllables

OK carry on .......
Last edited by Maureen K Clifford on Sun Jun 06, 2021 10:47 am, edited 1 time in total.
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/


I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.

Ron
Posts: 740
Joined: Tue Nov 02, 2010 5:55 pm
Location: Blue Mtns.

Re: START of the collaborative poem FOR HOMEWORK

Post by Ron » Wed Jun 02, 2021 9:15 pm

‎ ‎They cruised through ancient gorges, and past towering red stone cliffs‎
‎ they stopped a while to load at Waikerie‎
‎ and all the while the Murray simply flowed slowly along‎
‎ past red gum forests and aged river scree. ‎
‎ The Paddlewheels turned slowly - and loud birdsong filled the air‎
‎ the cerulean sky clear and cloudfree,‎
‎ to right and left were vineyards struggling to grasp a hold‎
‎ forerunners of a new wine industry. ‎
‎ MKC‎
‎ ‎
‎ The bow waves, in symmetry, rippled calmly to each bank‎
‎ and lapped at ever changing watermarks,‎
‎ and gave a sense of solace to a bloke of shady past,‎
‎ as he pondered, the magistrates remarks! ‎
‎ But the chance to work a passage to a future unknown‎
‎ gave hope to start afresh in new landmarks‎
‎ so there upon the river he decided to reform‎
‎ and have nought, but conscientious benchmarks! ‎
‎ R.B.‎
‎ ‎
‎ Reflecting on his Mary, whom he’d long ago let down‎
‎ by bringing shady dealings to her door,‎
‎ he cursed his gross stupidity and hoped in time to prove‎
‎ his worthiness and win her love once more. ‎
‎ As paddlewheels rotated in a comforting refrain,‎
‎ he pondered opportunities ahead; ‎
‎ a profitable future in a venture fresh and new—‎
‎ a chance for happiness in life instead. ‎
‎ CL‎
‎ ‎
‎ The year was 1894 and time was ripe for change‎
‎ at Waikerie – the place of “many wings” –‎
‎ inhabited by birds that filled the wetlands and lagoons‎
‎ and rose above the craggy cliffs like kings. ‎
‎ They’d granted him permission to be one of those who came‎
‎ to form controlled expansion that involved‎
‎ experimental settlement that may succeed or fail –‎
depending on what challenges were solved. ‎
‎ SJH‎
‎ ‎
‎ His Mary waited for him - she forgave his wicked ways‎
‎ she saw the true man hiding in the shell‎
‎ of the wastrel and the wanderer - the one who'd always fail,‎
‎ who'd let her down and was a ne're do well‎
‎ in some folks eyes, not hers it seems, for she loved this man true‎
‎ and knew that he would make good given time. ‎
‎ They'd planned a life together - he was following his dream -‎
‎ searching for land on which to grow the vine. ‎
‎ MKC‎
‎ ‎
‎ He sensed an opportunity was reaching out to him‎
‎ this day, Just Waiting here for him to find. ‎
‎ Reminding him of not so long ago, when dreams and hopes‎
‎ about a better life had filled his mind. ‎
‎ Away from squalid city life - a longing to be free‎
‎ and leave behind the daily city grind. ‎
‎ Then settle down with Mary who had changed his wayward ways,‎
‎ for which for many years he’d been so blind. ‎
‎ TEP‎
‎ ‎
‎ But in the world of shattered dreams and teary broken hearts‎
‎ Alas! Poor Mary had not been alone,‎
‎ for he had called himself Bill in his dealings of deceit‎
‎ and what a devious path he had known! ‎
‎ But with the given names of, Cuthbert, Horace Percival,‎
‎ he’d tried to leave that, all back in the past,‎
‎ For he'd sailed to Australia as a remittance man‎
‎ And ‘twas the ‘Old Dart’ where his mould was cast! ‎
‎ R.B.‎
‎ ‎
‎ But now, in this new land, the time had come to make his choice‎
‎ to leave the past behind – begin anew -‎
‎ not let past failings daunt him in a place where many shared‎
‎ the secret sins that only convicts knew. ‎
‎ So as he stood with Mary on their vibrant virgin soil,‎
‎ imagining the sunset on the vines‎
‎ they’d plant and cultivate with sons and daughters by their side -‎
‎ he felt a surge of hope, like mellow wines. ‎
‎ SJH‎
‎ ‎
‎ One hundred years have flown by it's now 1994‎
‎ the PS Marion just chugs along‎
‎ she's near one hundred years old too, her life full of changes -‎
‎ though still her stalwart heart is going strong. ‎
‎ The vineyards on the river are all heavy with the grape‎
‎ a bumper crop's been predicted this year. ‎
‎ On board a tall and rangy bloke - great, great grandson of Bill,‎
and Mary . He's an esteemed British peer
MKC

He knows about his forebear’s past and smiles a secret smile,
yet worries should the story now unfold.
For danger surely lurked here if the murky truth be known,
and lady Jane Felicity were told.
He ‘d told her that his family were all of noble stock,
the truth would stay a secret now he prayed.
Especially about the way their fortune came to be,
when Great Granddad had run the slavers trade.
TEP

The Baron, William Cuthbert leant at ease against the rails
watching the wavelets racing to the shore
He pondered on his title bestowed on him by the Queen
for poetry and writing - nothing more.
Today his real inheritance would fall into his hands
hard won by ancestors who'd gone before
The vines Granddad had planted years ago at Pooginook
on fertile floodplains close to Murray's shore.
MKC

And oh! How glad he was, that Great Grandfather changed his ways
of course, with thanks to William Wilberforce!
and now, he often thought how John Newton’s ‘Amazing Grace’
did his pursuit to be a scribe, endorse!
For now he was a Baron and vast wine estates were his,
so Gentry status now was guaranteed.
But! Just like rivers change, so too, the mind of Lady Jane
when, poison whispers, planted doubtful seed!
R.B.

She'd heard stories and whispers - he was thought beyond the pale
but Lady Jane was made of sturdy stock,
feisty and independent she was no weak hearted maid
her wedding plans held solid as a rock
Together they eloped and headed out for warmer climes
William, her poet, won that fair maids heart.
He could promise her nothing but his true undying love
and hard work as they both made a new start.

MKC

He'd some ideas to play with, though light-footed he would tread
and take on board his head mans expertise.
He thought perhaps a wine he'd name to try and curry favour
would be a Chardonnay - 'Felicities'.
A wicked sense of humour and a wordsmiths play on words
'Baron's Bordeaux-llo' label came to mind
A rich and feisty red aged long and gracefully in oak ,
full bodied, but the cost won't send you blind.
MKC

But feisty, though she was, her heart would melt with poetry
when weakened through her passion of fine wines,
and one named in her honour, and especially a chards’,
showed William, knew just how to read the signs.
For all their past uncertainties -were like the river flows-
forever gone, and really no great loss,
for adding to their assets, of poetry and fine wine
was an embracing, of the Southern Cross!
R.B.

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