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Exercise in Song Tactile

Home pavements yield, yet are flat;
The soft sheets indoors are light and sleek.
My drink was hard and itchy, and it scratched my throat,
And its roughness left me weak.

Chafed by wind, now I get
Crumbly loam, cold grit, then wet.
But as this song, like oil, drips in your ear:
Does it yield underfoot yet?

Exercise in Song Consequences

I needed help finding home.
I asked you, and then I had some ale
Upon an empty stomach; and the consequence
Was: I started to feel frail.

I went out wandering,
Sometimes climbing, then swimming;
And the consequence was: “show me the way
Home” is what I’ve been singing.

Exercise in Song Auditory

Logs crackle; wind fans the fire,
While bedsprings are creaking up above.
The click-and-clunk of optics and the chink of ice,
Then I swallow hard, and cough.

The wind blows through the trees
As I gasp and pant and wheeze.
Then I’ll sing of footsteps outside a door,
Followed by jangling keys.

Exercise in Song Past

I wanted to be shown home:
I got tired and, for a minute, dozed.
I had a little drink about an hour ago
That fatigued me, I supposed.

I roamed in days of yore,
Over land, and sea, and shore;
I demanded help, then finally stopped
When I arrived at my door.

Exercise in Song Cockney

Lawks! Blimey, Charlie! Ahm lost.
Ahv not ad a decent kip orl week.
Ah ad a li’l sniftah; nah Ahm Pat an Mick
An me legs av bowf gorn weak.

Bat, stiw: Ah best be off,
Over sea an iw an trough.
Am Ah singin? Nah, Ah dahnt do vat, mate.
Wot dyou fink Ah am? A toff?

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