Patronising

Durer’s St George and the Dragon. The crowned princess is lurking behind a rock. With a pig.

St George fought the dragon and killed it — or did he? Such doubt could make patriots go weak and quite giddy. Did he rescue a maiden and liberate a city – like Perseus, it’s said, in ancient antiquity? Or is it a myth, a tale for the gullible from powerful leaders who claim they’re infallible?

The truth is that George has a past that is murky: perhaps Cappadocia (that’s now part of Turkey) or Palestine claims him. Yes, Christian martyr — but slayer of dragons? Well, that‘s a non-starter.

He’s patron of England, the Knights of the Garter, Teutonic Knights, Reichenau, Gozo and Malta. He’s chief saint of Portugal and also of Genoa, of Moscow and Beirut and, yes, Catalonia. God help us if they all decide to go fight, for how will George know who is wrong and who’s right?

Yet it’s the far right who often invoke him, their claims of supremacy based on pure hokum. For they would now see saintly George as outsider, a migrant or refugee, sort of Al-Qaeda. To persecute him would elicit no qualms, he’d not be received with their welcoming arms.

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A post in rhyming couplets to mark April 23rd, St George’s Day. First published on my Calmgrove blog in 2017 in the wake of an ill-advised Brexit

Autumn

© C A Lovegrove

Sunday church bells peal,
starlings whirring, buzzards squeal;
black glove jackdaws wheel

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Rhyming haiku first published 10th November 2017

Epilogue

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There’s one thing I’ve learnt
over three score years and ten:
never to write an epilogue
with a sodding EpiPen.

A grim trick?

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I started to write a new limerick, then realised I had just a slim pick of possible rhymes — and very few times to use them! Is that not a grim trick?

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Suggestion: you could try singing this to the tune of ‘Hickory dickory dock’.

Happy new cheer

It’s New Year’s Eve. So long, and thanks
for all the luscious puns and games,
for health reports, and news of pranks
you’ve played, and all the names
you’ve called your other half,
old whatsit… It’s been quite a laugh.

And so, as we see out this year,
it’s Cheers to you! And mine’s a beer.

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Repost from New Year’s Eve 2020

Eight legs good?

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You know the old woman who swallowed a spider
which wiggled and wriggled and tickled inside her?

The spider had needed a dark cavern to hide her
and, having eight eyes, she very soon spied a
large yawning black hole, which was the decider!

So, onto a hook she quite speedily tied a
strong length of silk thread. Then, just like a glider,
she spiralled down slowly. And wider and wider
the cavity opened. Our small squiggly spider
all sinuous smiled; sidled down just beside her
said victim: and scuttling, was soon down inside her . . .

But you know the rest!

Puzzler

© C A Lovegrove

My first is in oak
but never in ache,
next’s not in cook
but is there in bake,
my third is in yes
but never in no.
My whole needs a hole –
by that clue you’ll it know!

X marks the spot

© C A Lovegrove

The mortal remains of X lies here,
Whose memory only a few hold dear;
For truly his bones are not buried deep
Since mostly his memories are held very cheap.

Heavenly chorister

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To the memory of Hugh Janus Dwyer,
A climate change champion denier.
When they said the world now was on fire
He just called each and everyone “liar”.

As he turned up his barbecue higher
People said it could be his own pyre.
Such a shame he threw on that big tyre
For he’s now joined the heavenly choir.

Fashion victim

© C A Lovegrove

Here lies young Jamie, late son of the Rayners,
the newest trends were his only passion;
Tripping over the laces of his brand new trainers,
falling victim to the latest fashion.

A promised partridge

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To celebrate the Saviour’s birth
He gave to her a stick in earth.
As promised to his love most true
A tree from that bare stick soon grew
And pears did from its branches form
To show his love for her stayed warm.

But she was troubled when she heard
him promise he’d give her the bird…

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The Twelve Days of Christmas 1

Every dog

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To the unjust,
one trusts,
just desserts come their way,
if it’s true,
as they say,
every dog has its day.

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First posted here 11th July 2020