Following on from my recent rose photos, I'm returning to gardening mode with the following sign spotted by the ever-vigilant ROGER at the Royal Horticultural Society gardens at Wisely...
Oh, yuck! You didn't, Roger, did you...?Image: Roger Shrigley © 2009
21 comments:
Yes, the Government seems determined to make composting the dung thing!
And talking of worms,it's so hard to get up in these mornings that I'm now looking forward to spring...
Toity doity boids
Sitting on de koib
Choiping and boiping and eating doity woims
Along came Boit wit a goil named Goit
From a shoit factory near Joisey
And when he saw dose toity doity boids
Sitting on de koib
Choiping and boiping and eating doity woims
Boy was he potoibed!
Take a worm, any worm...
Um, once one takes a worm, what does one do with it for the rest of one's visit? Carry it around in one's pocket? Or (shudder) in one's hand? Buy it an ice cream? (I wonder what flavor worms prefer -- in my research for my current kid's novel, I came across a flavor called Meewasin Mud. That's sure to appeal to worms of all ages...)
And this has just popped into my head, and I'm sure you'll be sorry I'm sharing it...
"Worms, worms, glorious worms,
Wriggly, wiggly, jiggly worms,
Worms in the compost, worms in my hand,
Holding these worms is so gruesomely grand!"
(Sorry, it's late at night, and that's all my brain is up to!)
Worm rhymes! HURRAH! Do either of you know the origin of your odes?
David will be next (or soon) you see if he's not, because he knows a little verse about a worm, too...
PS (SCB): I like the idea of a worm enjoying his Meewasin Mud ice-cream! Yummy-yummy!
I can't find the origins - but I see the Anglicised version associated with the Red Hot Chilli Peppers.
I wonder if it was penned by the same Anon responsible for
Spring is sprung
the grass is riz
I wonder where dem boidies iz
GILL e-mails to say...
Hi,
Not to preempt David's contribution [You just have! Ed.] but is his rhyme...
'Nobody loves me, everybody hates me,
Going down the garden to eat worms.
Big fat wriggly ones, little thin squiggly ones,
See how they wriggle and squirm'.
...by any chance?!
Gx
[No! Ed.]
Ok, ok, Brian ~
Ooey, Gooey was a worm
A mighty worm was he
He sat upon the railroad track
The train he did not see . . . .
, , , ooey,gooey!
How a worm can 'sit' you mustn't ask. I suppose the reference to, 'railroad track' suggests this to be of American origin.
Hi, Brian -- the origin of my wormy ditty is my own poor little brain, at a far too late hour of the night. The "worms, worms, glorious worms" might be based on something else, but the rest just evolved as I typed on your blog last night. Worm poetry -- just add water and stir.
My word verification is reqmwzbk. Make of it what you will... I have to go watch Dame Julie on American morning TV.
o worm that does so wiggle
wiggly
wiggly
you have fell into a puddle
wiggly
wuggly
wooogly
splosh !
- e e cummings
I'm surprised no one has taken us off in the direction of Ilkley Moor... yet
Hmm... SharonM, it seems that you have guided us onto Ilkley Moor, yourself! *totters off to look up all the words, or I shall be warbling only the chorus in an endless loop for the rest of the day*
Further to my worm song, I've realized that of course the inspiration for the first line was Lewis Carroll's "Soup of the evening, beautiful soup"...
cesch the sound Brian makes when SCB finally realizes an obvious link to an "Alice" reference...
Thanks, DAVID and BOLL, and maybe SCB you had another inspiration in mind: Flanders & Swann's Hippopotamus Song with it's refrain: "Mud, mud, glorious mud!"
"Mud, mud, glorious mud" sounds definitely like a worm song -- but alas, I do not know that song! (I must look it up.)
Did you realize, when you posted this post, what a can of worms you were opening? ;-)
Spring is sprung
the grass is riz
I wonder where dem boidies iz
But it continues:
Dem boidies on the wing, they say
But dat's abzurd -
I always taught the wing was on the boid!
No real provenance - but my dad quoted it a lot, whenever he heard the word 'Spring'.
Look what you started, ROGER! Next time you go to Wisley, please leave the worms behind...
Tis now that very witching hour,
That men and worms do leave their beds
And forage all for pastures new,
Within the very hearts of men
They seek to burrow
And their dreams beschrew
Shakespeare
For SCB : - don't expect to reach the worms for a while!
Wear 'as tha-bin since ah saw thee,
On Il-kley Moor bar-ta--at?
Wear 'as tha-bin since ah saw thee?
Wear 'as tha-bin since ah saw thee?
Chorus
On Ilk-ley Moor bar-tat
On Ilk-ley Moor bar-tat
On Ilk-ley Moor bar-tat!
Thar's been'a co-ortin' Mary Jane
On Il-kley Moor bar-ta--at
Thar's been'a co-ortin' Mary Jane
Tha's been'a co-ortin' Mary Jane
(Chorus)
Thar's barn-ter t'catch thee death a'co-ed
On Ilk-ley Moor ba-ta--at
Tha's barn-ter t'catch thee death a'co-ed
Tha's barn t'catch thee death a'co-ed
(Chorus)
Then we shall-ha' to bury thee
On Il-kley Moor bar-ta--at
Then we shall-ha' to bury thee
Then we shall-ha' to bury thee
(Chorus)
Then't worms 'll cume and eat thee up
On Il-kley Moor bar-ta--at
Then't worms 'll cume and eat thee up
Then't worms 'll cume and eat thee up
(Chorus)
Then't ducks 'll cume and eat-up worms
On Il-kley Moor bar-ta--at
Then't ducks 'll cume and eat-up worms
Then't ducks 'll cume and eat-up worms
(Chorus)
Then we shall go an' eat-up ducks
On Il-kley Moor bar-ta--at
Then we shall go an' eat-up ducks
Then we shall go an' eat-up ducks
(Chorus)
Then we shall-all-'av etten thee
On Il-kley Moor bar-ta--at
Then we shall-all-'av etten thee
Then we shall-all-'av etten thee
I didn't know there were all those worms in that song...
Twisted and gnarled
We sat athwart the guns
Like worms
Who ate merrily of the loam,
This foreign soil,
And belched, saited
With content.
Wilfred Owen
Well, as I have 4 (count 'em) compost heaps and a leaf bin I refrained from taking any of Wisley's worms!
BTW: there's a song we sang round the Scout campfires when I were a nipper(no blackberry or ipod in them days,lad):
"The worms go in; the worms go out
Your eyes come rolling down yer snout
eeeeeeh"
Roger O B...
UNHAP: what a worm feels if put in a pocket
I saw the world
Through your eyes,
o worm,
demonic trees, twisted
fodder only
for eating,
passing though,
coming out the other end;
but which end ?
is which ?
who can but tell
ted hughes
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