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Seligor's Castle, fun for all the children of the world.
Little BoPeep

                    Seligor's Castle, fun for all the children of the world.Butterfly
Lady BirdLittle BoPeep

Lady BirdHurt No Living Thing

Hurt no living thing,

Ladybird or Butterfly,

Nor moth with dusty wing,

Nor cricket chirping cheerily,Beetles Flying

A Big BeetleNor grasshopper, so light of leap,

Nor dancing gnat,

Nor beetle fat,

Nor harmless worm that creeps.

                                                                         By Christina Rossetti.


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 LITTLE BO PEEP HAS LOST HER SHEEP
AND DOESN'T KNOW WHERE TO FIND THEM.
LEAVE THEM ALONE AND THEY'LL COME HOME
WAGGING THEIR TALES BEHIND THEM.




LITTLE BO-PEEP HAS LOST HER SHEEP,
 INSTEAD OF LOOKING FOR THEM,
SHE IS HERE IN THE CASTLE  LOOKING FOR THINGS TO DO.


Shush don't tell anyone xxx. 

Spike Milligan SELIGOR'S CASTLE
     PRESENT'S
SPIKE MILLIGAN


Terence Alan Patrick Seán Milligan KBE (16 April 1918 - 27
February 2002),

known as Spike .Milligan, was an Irishcomedian, writer, musician, poet and playwright.
He is also noted as a popular writer of comical verse, much of his poetry was written for children, Silly Verse for Kids was published in 1959

The ABC

'Twas midnight in the schoolroom

And every desk was shut

When suddenly from the alphabet

Was heard a loud "Tut-Tut!"

 


Said A to B, "I don't like C;

His manners are a lack.

For all I ever see of C

Is a semi-circular back!"


"I disagree," said D to B,

"I've never found C so.

From where I stand he seems to be

An uncompleted O."


C was vexed, "I'm much perplexed,

You criticise my shape.

I'm made like that, to help spell Cat

And Cow and Cool and Cape."


..ouch Spikey


"He's right" said E; said F, "Whoopee!"

Said G, "'Ip, 'Ip, 'ooray!"

                              "You're dropping me," roared H to G.

                      "Don't do it please I pray."



"Out of my way," LL said to K.

"I'll make poor I look ILL."

To stop this stunt J stood in front,

And presto! ILL was JILL.



 "U know," said V, "that W

Is twice the age of me.

For as a Roman V is five

I'm half as young as he."

Sound asleep in the CradleX and Y yawned sleepily,

"Look at the time!" they said.

"Let's all get off to beddy byes."

They did, then "Z-z-z."

Milos MacourekSELIGOR'S CASTLE ALONG WITH

LITTLE BO PEEP
BRINGS YOU

 Miloš Macourek was born in 1926 at Kromeriz, Czechoslovakia. After studying at a school of music and drama, he held various jobs as a factory worker, scene shifter, warehouseman, publisher's editor, university lecturer on literature and art, story editor for Czechoslovak Films, and lately also as a screenwriter.  Apart from his children's books.
He writes poetry and prose, as well as plays.

Jacob's Chicken
by: Milos Macourek (1926-2002)

A chicken is a chicken, you all know how a chicken looks, sure you do, so go ahead and draw a chicken the teacher tells the children, and all the kids suck on crayons and then draw chickens, coloring them black or brown, with black or brown crayons, but wouldn't you know it, look at Jacob, he draws a chicken with every crayon in the box,This is a Chinese Rooster but he is very colourful also.

then borrows some from Laura, and Jacob's chicken ends up with an orange head, blue wings and red thighs and the teacher says that's some bizarre chicken, what do you say children, and the kids roll with laughter while the teacher goes on, saying, that's all because Jacob wasn't paying attention, and, to tell the truth, Jacob's chicken really looks more like a turkey, no wait, a peacock, it's as big as a quail and as lean as a swallow, a peculiar pullet, to say the least, Jacob earns an F for it and the chicken, instead of being hung on the wall, migrates to a pile of misfits on top of the teacher's cabinet, the poor chicken's feelings are hurt, nothing makes it happy about being on top of a teacher's cabinet, so, deciding not to be chicken, it flies off through the open window.

But a chicken is a chicken, a chicken won't fly too far, hence it ends up next door in a garden full of white cherries and powder-blue currants, a splendid garden that proudly shows its cultivator's love, you see, the gardener, Professor Kapon, a recognized authority, he is an ornithologist who has written seven books on birds and right now is finishing his eighth, and as he puts the last touches to it, he suddenly feels weary, so he goes out to do some light gardening and toss a few horseshoes, which is easy and lets him muse over birds, there are tons of them, so many birds, Professor Kapon says to himself, but there isn't a single bird that Yet another Chinese Roosterhe discovered, he feels down, flips a horseshoe and dreams a love-filled dream about an as-yet-unknown bird when his eye falls on the chicken picking the baby-blue currants, the rare blue currants, that darn it, he didn't grow for chicken feed, now that would make anyone's blood boil, the professor is incensed, he is furious, he seems unable to zap the chicken, so in the end he just catches it, flings it over the fence, the chicken flies off, and voila, Professor Kapon follows, he flies over the fence in pursuit of the chicken, grabs it and carries it home, quite an unusual chicken, that one, bet nobody has seen one quite like it, an orange head, blue wings and red thighs, the professor jots it all down, looks like a turkey, but then not quite, reminds one of a sparrow but also of a peacock, it's as big as a quail and as lean as a swallow, and after he has written it all down for his eighth book, the professor, all quivers, bestows upon the chicken his own name and carries it to the zoo.

A chicken is a chicken, who would fuss over a chicken, you think, but this one must be well worth the bother for the whole zoo is in an uproar, such rarity turns up perhaps once in twenty years, if that often, the zoo director is rubbing his hands, the employees are building a cage, the painter has his hands full and the director says the cage must sparkle and make the bed soft, he adds, and already there appears a nameplate, Kapon's chicken, Gallina Kaponi, it sounds lovely, doesn't it, what do you say, it sounds, actually. . .how about it, the chicken is having the time of its life, it's moved to tears by all this care, it really can't complain, it has become the zoo's main attraction, the center of attention, the zoo has never had so many
This is a Chinese Rooster but he is very colourful also. visitors, says the cashier, and the crowds are growing larger by the minute, wait, look, there is our teacher with the whole class standing in front of the cage, explaining, a while ago you saw the Przewalkski horse and here you have another unique specimen, the so-called Kapon's chicken or Gallina Kaponi that looks some-what like a turkey but not quite, resembles a sparrow and also a peacock, it's as big as a quail and as lean as a swallow, why, look at that gorgeous orange head, the blue wings, the scarlet thighs, the children are agog, they sigh, what a beautiful chicken, ain't that right, teacher, but Laura, as if struck by lightning, pulls on teacher's sleeve and says, that's Jacob's chicken, I bet you it is, the teacher becomes irked, this silly child's ridiculous notions, what Jacob's chicken is she prattling on about and, come to think of it, where is Jacob anyhow, again he is not paying attention, now wouldn't you know, there, just look at him, there he is, in front of an anteater's cage, watching an anteater when he is supposed to be looking at Kapon's chicken, Jacob, the teacher yells at the top of her lungs in a high-pitched voice, next time you'll stay home, Jacob, I've had enough aggravation, which shouldn't surprise anyone, for something like that would make anybody's blood boil.


Miloš Macourek — một trong những nhà văn, kịch tác gia và đạo diễn điện ảnh hàng đầu của Sadley Mr Macourek passed away in 2002, but I am sure there are many little ones there to hear his stories.Tiệp-khắc — sinh ngày 2.12.1926 tại Kroměří˛. Sau khi rời trường âm nhạc và kịch nghệ, ông làm nhiều nghề để kiếm sống: công nhân nhà máy, người kéo màn sân khấu, thủ kho, biên tập viên cho nhà xuất bản, giảng viên đại học (về văn chương và mỹ thuật), biên tập viên cho hãng phim... Ông bước vào văn chương với tập thơ Člověk by nevěřil svým očím [Không tin vào mắt mình] (1958). Trong những năm 1960, ông viết kịch bản cho nhà hát Na zábradlí và các hãng phim Barrandov và Krátký. Ông đã thực hiện 29 cuốn phim (phần lớn là hài kịch và truyện cổ tích), 7 loạt phim bi kịch và 5 loạt phim hoạt hoạ cho truyền hình. Ông cũng là tác giả của hàng chục cuốn phim hoạt hoạ đoạt giải quốc tế. Đồng thời, ông đã xuất bản 10 cuốn sách, trong đó có những cuốn được dịch ra 14 ngoại ngữ, chẳng hạn cuốn ˇivočichopis [Sách loài vật] (1962), và Mach a Ÿebestová [Max và Sally] (1982). Ông qua đời ngày 30.9.2002 tại Praha.
I was lucky enough to find this picture script at    www.tienve.org    thankyou



 
MP3 Player with tunes for you!


                                                               

And now a small poem from India written over a hundred and thirty years ago.Edward Lear
Realizador: Shelly wain
Categoria: Animação
País: Reino Unido
Duração: 3:21                          Synopsis:

Based on the poem by Edward Lear. a cat lady sits alone in the jungle.

Strange creatures twitter and hum. Suddenly a warning cry is heard   

"The Cummerbund is come".

"You will never believe this but Seligor actually tried to find what Mr Lear was talking about but of course, his rhymes were mostly Nonsense so  that explained everything."

 
THE CUMMERBUND


She sat upon her Dobie,
To watch the Evening Star,
And all the Punkahs as they passed,
Cried, "My! how fair you are!
Around her bower, with quivering leaves,
The tall Kamsamahs grew,
And Kitmutgars in wild festoons
Hung down from Tchokis blue.

Below her home the river rolled
With soft Meloobious sound,
Where golden-finned Chuprassies swam,
In myriads circling round.
Above, on tallest trees remote
Green Ayahs perched alone,
And all night long the Mussak moan'd
Its melancholy tone.

And where the purple Nullahs threw
Their branches far and wide,
And silvery Goreewallahs flew
In silence, side by side,
The little Bheesties'  flagrant air,
And of the angry Jampan howled
Deep in his hateful lair.

She sat upon her Dobie,
She heard the Nimmak hum,
When all at once a cry arose,
"The Cummerbund is come!"
In vain she fled; - with open jaws
The angry monster followed,
And so, ( before assistance came,)
The Lady Fair was swallowed.

They sought in vain for even a bone
Respectfully to bury,
They said, "Hers was a dreadful fate!
(And Echo answered "Very."
They nailed her Dobie to the wall,
Where last her form was seen,
And underneath they wrote these words,
 In yellow, blue, and green:-

"Beware, ye Fair! Ye Fair, beware!
Nor sit out late at night, -
Lest horrid Cummerbunds should come,
And swallow you outright.

Note. - First published in Times of India,  Bombay, July, 1874.

By Edward Lear.


My friend from India who has his own fabulous websitesover there. You will see contacts for him all over the Castle and Dreamland. He sent me this email, when he read that I had placed the poem on this site.

HERE IS HIS EMAIL FOR YOU TO READ.

http://seligorscastle.zoomshare.com/files/frontpage/Homepage_1/dadazi_india.bmp


Thank you for the poem Dorothy. (My Posh Name)  Do you understand it all? Because more than half the words used are Hindi. Cuumarbandh means a belt or a wide sash.
The picture on the banner is my fathers (As this site was originally started to publish his philosophy of life!). The picture on  the right is a fantastic sculpture in granite that stands in front of  the Patna Secretariat. It depicts India's freedom struggle and the march to Delhi against British Rule. Interesting?
Wishing you all the best weatherwise, otherwise and anywise, best regards, dadazi


Isn't that a wonderful message, it is so good to talk to the people who do the same thing as yourself, which is of course trying to keep the children of the world happy. Hooray for dadazi and seli. Smile 

This poem by Edward Lear is also on the Gutenberg site
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
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  THE STORM IN THE POOL


A Storm in the Pool

        "Ah! it's a weary world," sighed Mrs Newt, shaking her head, and waggling her tail mournfully in a small puddle - all that was left of the home pond after the long summer drought.
         Even the stone she sat on was uncomfortably hot although it was late in the afternoon, and the long shadows from the  chestnut tre were spreading over the  baked mud of the dried up pond.
         It was just the time of day when Mrs Newt usually enjoyed a good gossip with Mrs Frog but the long hot day had made her peevish. Even the news that the Toad baby has pushed little Wog-wog, Mrs Frog's favourite child- off his pebble, "and he hardly more than a tadpole, poor mite!" only made Mrs Newt more depressed.
       "Ah! things aren't what they were in my young day," she moaned. "No discipline, that's what is wrong. Too much of this new fangled self expression. What we  are all coming to, I don't know." And she slid down into the water to slap all the little Newts, just incase they needed it. This made her feel much more cheerful, so she p[opped up again quite hopefully to hear the latest scandal about the young Croaker, the gay young bachelor of the pond, and
"no better than he should be!"
            
It was such a spicy tale, "so very shocking," that Mrs Newt did not notice the first few heavy drops of rain from the thunder-cloud overhead.
    The long drought was over at last; the rain was falling now, not in big drops, but sheets. The pond was soon a whirlpool full to overflowing. Mrs Newt was washed off her stone, Mrs Frog also.
       
The little Newts came to the surface struggling and calling for help as the flood bore them away to the other side of the pond. Their mother screamed to them to keep their heads although what they really needed was to keep their feet, for they were being  washed steadily  - in spite of their struggles towards the yawning black mouth of a large drain.
       Just as it seemed nothing could save them, even disciplined! young Croaker (who had been idling neat  the side of the drain side of the pond) jumped into the reed canoe, and with a few strong strokes of his paddle he was at the drain's mouth before the frightened little Newts, and  he skillfully blocked the entrance just in time. He soon had each of the infants safely hauled up into his boat.
        There they had to remain until the rain ceased, and the pond, quite a lake by this time, was calm enough to allow Croaker to paddle home against the curent.the babies were going to drown
       Mrs Newt was very thankful to have her dear children safely back again, although she smacked them all round for being the cause of her fright.
       Later, Mrs Newt said to Mrs Frog, " that it all went to show how necessary it was to keep one's head, for the children were not what they were in her young days, and they all needed discipline.           

      Some of Mary Elizabeths favourite Sea Shanties 
 To accompany everyone on their  journey through life into the wonderful world of food and drink that you could eat even if you weren't very, very hungry. Seligor has searched around the wonderful You tube and found some beautiful Sea Shanties, My mum (Seligor) used to teach me these songs when I was a little girl. Her elder sisters even taught me how to do the Hornpipe.

Enjoy the songs Seligor  chose for you and say thanks to the people who put the video's together, I wish I could do them for myself... maybe one day eh! Take care, Diddily Dee Dot. xxx


 


These are a few of the songs for you to watch and listen too.Cheer up me lads.
among the treasures of the deep are:



Santy Anna.      
Haul Away for Rosie.Muppet Treasure Island
Go to Sea Once More.

Horizon Tides

Miss Piggy's Calypso


                       Muppet Sea Chanty!
The Pigs Calypso.
Horizon Tides.
Magic Dance.




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