Tabard Poems - Poems about Tabard

...I sometimes wonder who was there the day Shakespeare finished writing King Lear. Was he at home with his Annie? Or was he drunk off his fanny in the Tabard Inn, stroking the dark lady's hair? ......

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... it feels good to escape with authors and poets and dream up new places with tales that are spun. but sometimes what's real and sometimes what isn't encroach on each other and read just as ......

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... - Readers, I hope you forgive me. I’m retracting some words I once said: I'd planned to write just five of these tales But I've added a sixth tale instead.. Night The pre......

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... The west winds of springtime Brought forth April showers That rained on the pavements Of Southwick for hours. It was standing room only And full to the brim As people sought shelter At th......

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...Morning The Innkeeper checked his watch once again Hoping the chef's feelings weren't hurt. The last time they were, he arrived two hours late And then left, serving just his dessert. ......

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...Morning In The Hair Salon She would chat and then nod as she washed And laugh as she dried and then curled But behind all the smiles that were wide, fixed and false She felt challenged a......

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...Morning Having sighed a great sigh He perused all his tools From the mainsprings and tweezers To the wheels and the jewels. He removed the large case latch From the pocket watch cove......

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... Morning At Work Impaired by his tremors And a troublesome cough, He turned fur into felt Before cooling things off. He drooled once or twice And grew cold in his bones, But he sha......

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...Paper rustle of your lips is not needed to her really, You're a knight, but your heart weeps, You were brave, why are you thrilling? You would strip your zealous sword, But there are no foes ......

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...Along ta derry ga de hance ‘til dawn we sit, amid, astance. And once the full moon rises on’t Da mid awhorl doth all we want. But soon ta blacken brot a gri, wit stil da crackon akabree-- And......

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...Fables are told today Only on past golden days Love is what we’ll make today Loneliness will be ashamed to stay. Oasis as longs for rain, Wacky me to get a swain, Iambus we long to gain Naiad ......

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... When I spotted Saint George in a van, I feared that his horse might be lame. Or worse, in a Doggomeat can, when hurt in some chivalric game. Saint George, it appeared was not happy, now car......

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