[guide.chat] elizabeth
- From: vanessa <qwerty1234567a@xxxxxxxxx>
- To: "GUIDE CHAT" <guide.chat@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Mon, 12 Nov 2012 16:18:11 -0000
kewl, newspaper not allowed today, it is not the same, i tried to get you your
other request but to no avail, as if it isbeing reintroduced or similar name of
a new film, song etcetera, they will under any circumstances allow you to find,
they put blocks on it throughout internet, until the music or film industry
have made their money, unfortunately yours had the same identical title as a
new song and also same name as a new play, so i am sorry about that, so i put
up all those emails for you to compensate.
vanessa.
-----Original Message-----
From: Elizabeth Kay - Email Address: ebeth.kay@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Sent On: 12/11/2012 15:11
Sent To: vanessa, GUIDE CHAT - Email Address: qwerty1234567a@xxxxxxxxx,
guide.chat@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: In Reply To: [guide.chat] poem The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God
by john milton hayes
Thankyoufor finding this Vanessa. It is a relic of the days gone by, long
before raio and television whn people used to attend concerts for
entertainment. Dramatic monologues and ballads were interspersed with solo
instrument perfomannce. Most churches held these social evenings on a regular
basis throughout the winter. I enjoyed the ones best that had funny
recitations and sketces aswell. I remember walking home with my parents and
brothers and sisters on dark winter nights after attending these concerts and
calling in at the chip shop for a pennoth o' chips with salt annd vinegar
served in newspaper, to eat on the way home. They warmed our fingers up and we
forgot the cold. Elizabeth
-----Original Message-----
From: vanessa - Email Address: qwerty1234567a@xxxxxxxxx
Sent On: 11/11/2012 20:19
Sent To: GUIDE CHAT - Email Address: guide.chat@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [guide.chat] poem The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God by john
milton hayes
The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God
There's a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu,
There's a little marble cross below the town;
There's a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew,
And the Yellow God forever gazes down.
He was known as "Mad Carew" by the subs at Khatmandu,
He was hotter than they felt inclined to tell;
But for all his foolish pranks, he was worshipped in the ranks,
And the Colonel's daughter smiled on him as well.
He had loved her all along, with a passion of the strong,
The fact that she loved him was plain to all.
She was nearly twenty-one and arrangements had begun
To celebrate her birthday with a ball.
He wrote to ask what present she would like from Mad Carew;
They met next day as he dismissed a squad;
And jestingly she told him then that nothing else would do
But the green eye of the little Yellow God.
On the night before the dance, Mad Carew seemed in a trance,
And they chaffed him as they puffed at their cigars:
But for once he failed to smile, and he sat alone awhile,
Then went out into the night beneath the stars.
He returned before the dawn, with his shirt and tunic torn,
And a gash across his temple dripping red;
He was patched up right away, and he slept through all the day,
And the Colonel's daughter watched beside his bed.
He woke at last and asked if they could send his tunic through;
She brought it, and he thanked her with a nod;
He bade her search the pocket saying "That's from Mad Carew,"
And she found the little green eye of the god.
She upbraided poor Carew in the way that women do,
Though both her eyes were strangely hot and wet;
But she wouldn't take the stone and Mad Carew was left alone
With the jewel that he'd chanced his life to get.
When the ball was at its height, on that still and tropic night,
She thought of him and hurried to his room;
As she crossed the barrack square she could hear the dreamy air
Of a waltz tune softly stealing thro' the gloom.
His door was open wide, with silver moonlight shining through;
The place was wet and slipp'ry where she trod;
An ugly knife lay buried in the heart of Mad Carew,
'Twas the "Vengeance of the Little Yellow God."
There's a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu,
There's a little marble cross below the town;
There's a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew,
And the Yellow God forever gazes down.
John Milton Hayes
from
Vanessa The Google Girl.
my skype name is rainbowstar123
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