Ye Auld Ballade Concerning Tim's Aulde Collection of Verbigeration, and Literature from Alle and Sondry Landes.
I had a little stack of books,
A stack of books had I.
I had a little stack of books,
A pretty little stack of books,
So little was this stack of books,
It reached into the sky.
It was more beautiful and eloquent
Than the famous tower of Babel:
More beautiful, more eloquent,
And even more unstable.
Occasionally a tome would topple down
Upon a visitor,
A little tome would topple down,
A set of tomes would topple down,
A tonne of tomes would topple down,
And bury my inquisitor.
It was more beautiful and eloquent
Than the famous tower of Babel:
More beautiful, more eloquent,
And even more unstable.
Flatmate came and saw this stack
With ever flashing eye;
"Tim, you need to shelf this stack,
To shelf this ever-climbing stack,
To shelf this climbing stack of books,
Before it falls on you or I!"
It was more beautiful and eloquent
Than the famous tower of Babel:
More beautiful, more eloquent,
And even more unstable.
And so I went and got a shelf,
I got it from IKEA.
I got a lovely little shelf,
Got it with my hard-earned wealth,
Put it together by myself,
With screws sourced from South Korea.
It was more beautiful and eloquent
Than the famous tower of Babel:
More beautiful, more eloquent,
And even more unstable.
I had a little bookshelf,
A bookshelf had I.
I put my books upon a shelf,
I put them all upon a shelf,
I piled them all upon the shelf
That I had made on the fly.
It was more beautiful and eloquent
Than the famous tower of Babel:
More beautiful, more eloquent,
And even more unstable.
And it would crack, and it would growl,
Like "noises in a swound"
Yea, my little bookshelf crack'd and growl'd
And roared and howl'd
And snarled quite loud
Whene'er it saw the moon.
It was more beautiful and eloquent
Than the famous tower of Babel:
More beautiful, more eloquent,
And even more unstable.
And then one morning while I slept,
Ere the rising of the sun,
The bookshelves slowly tumbled down
The books and bookshelves tumbled down
The whole contraption rumbled down,
Just - (I suppose) - for fun.
It was more beautiful and eloquent
Than the famous tower of Babel:
More beautiful, more eloquent,
And even more unstable.
I have a little stack of books,
A stack of books have I.
I have a little stack of books,
A pretty little stack of books,
So little is this stack of books,
It reaches into the sky.
It is more beautiful and eloquent
Than the famous tower of Babel:
More beautiful, more eloquent,
And even more unstable.
Here concludes Ye Auld Ballade Concerning Tim's Aulde Collection of Verbigeration, and Literature from Alle and Sondry Landes.
I had a little stack of books,
A stack of books had I.
I had a little stack of books,
A pretty little stack of books,
So little was this stack of books,
It reached into the sky.
It was more beautiful and eloquent
Than the famous tower of Babel:
More beautiful, more eloquent,
And even more unstable.
Occasionally a tome would topple down
Upon a visitor,
A little tome would topple down,
A set of tomes would topple down,
A tonne of tomes would topple down,
And bury my inquisitor.
It was more beautiful and eloquent
Than the famous tower of Babel:
More beautiful, more eloquent,
And even more unstable.
Flatmate came and saw this stack
With ever flashing eye;
"Tim, you need to shelf this stack,
To shelf this ever-climbing stack,
To shelf this climbing stack of books,
Before it falls on you or I!"
It was more beautiful and eloquent
Than the famous tower of Babel:
More beautiful, more eloquent,
And even more unstable.
And so I went and got a shelf,
I got it from IKEA.
I got a lovely little shelf,
Got it with my hard-earned wealth,
Put it together by myself,
With screws sourced from South Korea.
It was more beautiful and eloquent
Than the famous tower of Babel:
More beautiful, more eloquent,
And even more unstable.
I had a little bookshelf,
A bookshelf had I.
I put my books upon a shelf,
I put them all upon a shelf,
I piled them all upon the shelf
That I had made on the fly.
It was more beautiful and eloquent
Than the famous tower of Babel:
More beautiful, more eloquent,
And even more unstable.
And it would crack, and it would growl,
Like "noises in a swound"
Yea, my little bookshelf crack'd and growl'd
And roared and howl'd
And snarled quite loud
Whene'er it saw the moon.
It was more beautiful and eloquent
Than the famous tower of Babel:
More beautiful, more eloquent,
And even more unstable.
And then one morning while I slept,
Ere the rising of the sun,
The bookshelves slowly tumbled down
The books and bookshelves tumbled down
The whole contraption rumbled down,
Just - (I suppose) - for fun.
It was more beautiful and eloquent
Than the famous tower of Babel:
More beautiful, more eloquent,
And even more unstable.
I have a little stack of books,
A stack of books have I.
I have a little stack of books,
A pretty little stack of books,
So little is this stack of books,
It reaches into the sky.
It is more beautiful and eloquent
Than the famous tower of Babel:
More beautiful, more eloquent,
And even more unstable.
Here concludes Ye Auld Ballade Concerning Tim's Aulde Collection of Verbigeration, and Literature from Alle and Sondry Landes.
10 comments:
Poets licence disclaimer: the bookshelf is still up (albeit without actual shelves), but no amount of hammering or swearing can make the shelves actually *stay* up.
You made my afternoon. How delightful.
My ego is pleased that I had the sense, at least, to buy an extraordinarily sturdy wooden bookshelf [known as bane of removalists].
Delightful, indeed. Yes, it is a delightful stack of books, currently sitting in two boxes, several random piles, assorted shelves around the room, and my bed, and generally crowding me out in the way that stacks of books have. Soon the room will be all books and no Tim.
And of course I needn't mention the habit they have of making me sneeze...
I'm such a bed hog that I don't even share with books despite my great love for them. Clearly, I cannot love enough to allow disturbances to my sleep - I suspect this is a bad thing. Of course, my flat is fairly large and I have a decent if bulging bookcase so books on the bed is not really an issue anyway.
The only books I keep in my bedroom are the ones that I am too embarrassed to have in the other room :)
Did I already suggest writing to Ikea and offering your services as poet-in-residence? If I didn't, I do now.
I'll have to work out whether my job application will be in Terza Rima, or Spenserian Stanzas. These things could mean all the difference to an employer, you know, especially one as discerning as Ikea...
Perhaps you might find a solution here. Although they're only really talking when they broach the possibility of the book bath and, even so, it's not quite as swoon-inducing as some of the lovelies here.
Ottava rima for Ikea, me thinks.
Ah, now this is probably the one for you.
Yes!
(Sorry, just discovered the site. Indulging in a late-night spot of extreme nerdery).
Yeah, yawn already, must be time to update...?
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