Pilgrim's progress ...

I had a Plum to-day

I had a Plum to-day

I got a book, it came as a gift,

It picked me up, gave me a lift.

I’ll immerse myself in every page,

Go back in time, to a happier age.

I find myself a cosy nook,

Sit back, open my book.

Page one produces a broad smile,

I move on to two, and ponder awhile;

Page three draws from me a snort,

Someone’s already plotting a plot!

They are scheming like the dickens;

As I turn the pages, the plot thickens.

This devious planning is making me laugh,

I shake in my chair and almost fall off.

There’s a chap and there’s his butler,

There’s a planner and a plan scuttler.

Aunts pop in, here and there

Embellishing the story, as it were.

Telegrams fly, to and fro, thick and fast

I am thinking this is too good, will it last?

Page fifty, and I’m wiping the tears,

I haven’t laughed so much in years.

Is it me, rumbling with mirth,

Or just a tremor in the earth?

The book’s a riot, too funny to handle,
It’s become dark, I will need a candle

Night has fallen; I too fell, many times

Picked myself up, ignored the chimes

I’ll finish the book, come what may

I’ll try not to fall off again, I’ll stay.

I’m chuckling away into the night

When I finish the book it’s first light

Ah! I can happily get back to the old grind

After all I had a Plum to elevate the mind!

-          ©  Shiva Kumar 17^th May 2015

Devastated!

A Basketful of Plums

What Ho!
Here's my tribute to The Master, which was a few days in the making. I might be able to improve it a bit if I work on it a bit, but then, I might not. So I'll let it be. It is not a romantic poem or any stuff like that. It is just an idea which came to me when I went to my friendly book shop and found an unexpected treasure. I let the idea germinate.
I started off by putting down a few words, then I assembled them into small groups, the I tried to make the whole thing sound good. There was a bit of humming and hawing and tweaking and chopping and, in the end, I said enuff! I shall now post.

I am a great disciple of The Master and simply love, among other things, his style of writing.

I hope you like my effort. Thank you.

A BASKETFUL OF PLUMS

Holiday morning, lovely day
To the bookshop, I’m on my way
The bookman called and said “come, quick,
Come a-running and take your pick.

A bunch of ol’ books have arrove,
A big crateload, a treasure trove.”
I wade in, my wish list in hand
Books all over, I can’t see land.

Dark grim tales to the left of me,
Sob stories to the right of me;
Pah! Bah! And Tchah! Far away be,
I want books which guffaw make me.

Melodrama, romance, forsooth!
Stuff, no sense in the bitter truth.
Yes, ribbing prose, tickling poetry,
But no science nor geometry.

Clarence, Freddie, Threepwood clan
Sir Galahad, the Pelican
Empress, Baxter, the angry swan;
Plum makes you chortle, that’s his plan.

Psmith the name with the silent P,
Sometimes dotty, always natty!
Ukridge the get-rich-quick schemer,
Out, looking for his redeemer.

Anatole, chef extraordinaire,
He cooks up a superb French fare;
But when he expresses his ire,
His English is simply hilare!

Come and meet Mr. Mulliner,
Angler’s Rest’s own story teller.
Or, the golf club’s Oldest Member,
Who many tales does remember!

Roderick Spode, Sam the Sudden,
Uncle Fred, Pongo Twistleton!
Sally, Gussie, Bingo, Catsmeat,
On my bookshelf you all I’ll greet!

Ah! There I spy a Bertie tale
With his antics he does regale.
By himself he’ll be in a bind
Thankfully, Jeeves isn’t far behind.

Wodehouse Omnibus, just you wait
Till I pick you up from that crate!
Plum’s the word for the humour stuff
Reading once is just not enuff!

A holiday morning well spent
Time flew, so fast, it came and went!
Now to curl up in the arm chair
Read away, come up only for air!

© Shiva Kumar 2015

Our Dadas!

Our Dadas

The Common Man bids goodbye

Soaring free !

Soaring free !