Dr Embers Presents - The Owl and the Pussy Cat by Edward Lear Performed by Gordon Banks -

"Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere." — Albert Einstein

This week on Verse and Tales, we leave reason at the door and step into the wonderfully absurd world of nonsense poetry.

Join us as we sail with Edward Lear's adventurous Jumblies, venture into Lewis Carroll's strange and perilous realm of Jabberwocky, and conclude beneath moonlit skies with Lear's beloved classic The Owl and the Pussy-cat.

Though playful on the surface, these timeless works remind us of something often forgotten in adulthood: the importance of imagination, curiosity, and the courage to see the world differently.

I am especially delighted to welcome this week's reader, Gordon Banks—the man who first introduced me to the magic of these poems many years ago. It is therefore a particular pleasure to share these cherished works with you in his voice.

So settle by the hearth, suspend disbelief, and allow your imagination to take the lead.

Poems featured:
• The Jumblies — Edward Lear
• Jabberwocky — Lewis Carroll
• The Owl and the Pussy-cat — Edward Lear

Instagram: Gordonbanks

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Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:30

This is Verse and Tales, a podcast of story and poetry told by the fire. As Albert Einstein once said, logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere. Tonight we look at the importance of stepping beyond reason and looking into the wonderful world or nonsense poetry. The works of Edward Lear and Lewis Carroll, we shall meet adventurous jumblies, face the fearsome jabberwocky, and sail beneath moonlit skies with the owl and the pussy cat. And there is no one better to guide us on this journey than Gordon Banks, the man who taught me everything that I know. So settle by the hearth, suspend disbelief and let your imagination lead the way.

SPEAKER_01 1:32

Our journey begins with Edward Lears The Jumblies Over to you, Gordon Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll Twas Brillag and the Sly Tovs Did Gyre and Gimble in the Wab, whole mimsy were the boroughs, and the moon wraths out crab Beware the Jabberwalk, my son, the doors that bite, the claws that catch, beware the job job bird and shun the frumius pandersnatch. He took his vorpal sword in hand, long time the manksome foe he sought, so he rested by the tom tom tree, and stood awhile in thought, and as in uffish thought he stood, the Jabawak, with eyes of flame, came whiffling through the Tolgi wood and burbled as it came. One, two, one two, and through and through the vaul blade went snicker snack. He left it dead, and with its head he went galumping back. And hast thou slain the Jabawap? Come to my arms, my beamish boy. O Frabius Day Kalu Calais he jawtled in his joy. And the sly torbs, the dire and gimbal in the Wab. Oh mimsy were the Buragovs and the moon wraths outgrab The Jumblies by Edward Lear They went to sea in a sieve they did. In a sieve they went to sea in spite of all the friends could say on a winter's morn, on a stormy day, in a sieve they went to sea. And when the sieve turned round and round and everyone cried You'll all be drowned. They called aloud Our sieve ain't big, but we don't care a button. We don't care a fig. In a sieve we'll go to sea. Far and few, far and few are the lands where the jumblies live. The heads are green and the hands are blue. And they went to sea in a sieve. They sailed away in a sieve they did. In a sieve they sailed so fast, with only a beautiful pea green veil tied with a ribbon by way of a sail, to a small tobacco pipe mast. And everyone said who saw them go, Oh won't they soon be upset, you know? For the sky is dark and the void is long, and happen what may it's extremely wrong in a sieve to sail so fast. Far and few, far and few are the lands where the jumbles live. The heads are green and the hands are blue and they went to sea in a sieve. The water it soon came in, it did. The water it soon came in. So to keep them dry they wrapped their feet in pinky paper, all folded neat, and they fastened it down with a pin. And they passed the night in a crockery jar, and each of them said how wise we are. Though the sky be dark and the voyage be long, yet we can never think we were rash or wrong while round in our sieve we spin. Far and few, far and few are the lands where the Jumblees live. The heads are green and the hands are blue, and they went to sea in a sieve. And all night long they sailed away, and when the sun went down there whistled and wobbled a moony song to the echoing sound of a copry gong, in the shade of the mountain brown. Oh Timberloo, how happy we are when we live in a sieve and a crockery jar. And all night long in the moonlight pale, we sail away with a pea green sail in the shade of the mountain brown. Far and few, far and few are the lands where the jumbles live. The heads are green and the hands are blue. And they went to sea in a sieve. They sail to the western sea they did, to a land all covered with trees, and they bought an owl and a useful cart, a pound of rice, and a cranberry tart, and a hive of silvery bees, and they bought a pig and some green jack doors, and a lovely monkey with lollipop paws, and forty bottles of ring bow re and no end of stilten cheese. Far and few, far and few are the lands where the Jumblees live. The heads are green and the hands are blue and they went to sea in a city. And in twenty years they all came back, in twenty years or more, and everyone said how tall they've grown, for they've been to the lakes and the torable zone and the hills of the Chanklibo. And they drank their health and gave them a feast of dumplings made of beautiful yeast. And everyone said If we only live, we too will go to sea in a sieve to the hills of the Chanklibo. Far and few, far and few are the lands where the jumblies live. The heads are green and the hands are blue and they went to sea in a sieve The Owl and the Pussycat by Edward Lear The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea in a beautiful pea green boat. They took some honey and plenty of money, wrapped up in a five pound note. The owl looked up to the stars above and sang to a small guitar. Oh lovely pussy, oh pussy, my love, what a beautiful pussy you are. You are, you are what a beautiful pussy you are. Pussy said to the owl, You elegant fowl, how charmingly sweet you sing. Oh let her be married. Too long we have tarried but what shall we do for a ring? They sailed away for a year and a day to the land where the bong tree grows. And there in a wood a piggy wig stood with a ring at the end of his nose, his nose, his nose with a ring at the end of his nose. Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling your ring? said the piggy, I will. So they took it away, and were married next day by the turkey who lives on the hill. They dined on mince and slices of quince, which they ate with a runtible spoon. And hand in hand on the edge of the sand, they danced by the light of the moon, the moon, the moon. They danced by the light of the moon.

SPEAKER_00 10:09

If this place has become familiar, you can follow the podcast so the next story finds you. And if you have thoughts, reflections or ideas, speak up. If you'd like to request a favourite story, poem, or theme, I am all here. Perhaps you too have crafted a wondrous work who wishes to be shared by the fire. We'll find a way to share it in the episode notes. Until we meet again. Keep the fire close.