A memory

I've been over at the Toads again. Today's prompt is a video of a country music singer. It triggered this piece of doggerel.

I remember a night in a bar, far away
A stop on a road-trip in East USA.
A group of musicians arrayed to one side -
an eclectic group my companion decried.
A piano, a drum kit, guitar with a slide:
Their music was homely, a country-based thing.
But the lyrics familiar meant I too could sing,
so I had a great evening (my friend went to bed
and spent her time reading a novel instead)
I formed a fun memory, where sometimes I stray
 in my mind to that night in a bar, far away.
And when I hear bluegrass with twanging guitars,
see a real country singer with rhinestones like stars,
I'm immediately back to that music-filled place -
totally happy with a smile on my face!

Spelunking

"I just don't understand the attraction. Why would you travel half way around the world, to a beautiful country, then spend your time underground?" It was clear that my opinion depressed her.

"Because it's beautiful underground too," she said, with a hint of wistfulness and her eyes not quite focussed, as though she was already there. "Besides, it's the largest known cave in the world."

"But underground is just rocks. Nothing but rocks."

"It has the tallest known stalagmites in the world too."

"So they're big rocks."

She huffed at me and brought her focus back to give me a hard stare. "I suppose there's no point in telling you there's an underground river as well?"

I shook my head. I was never going to feel her attraction to caves and caving. It's not that I don't like rocks and rivers. I'm actually fond of limestone country. But I think it's much better in sunshine.

***********

This has been written in response to a challenge at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads
It reminded me of a conversation I had several years ago with a college friend who spent a lot of spare time potholing.  Of course, she was only planning to go to Derbyshire, not Vietnam, but the idea is the same.

I'm not sure whether I was supposed to write poetry. But this is what the Muse brought.

National Poetry Day

They want us all to remember a poem that we learned as children.  I realised that Pooh was probably one of my earliest 'poets' and I can still recite this by heart now.

In which Tigger is unbounced...............

If Rabbit
Was bigger
And fatter
And stronger,
Or bigger
Than Tigger,
If Tigger was smaller,
Then Tigger's bad habit
Of bouncing at Rabbit
Would matter
No longer,
If Rabbit
Was taller.

A A Milne