8 Records For A Poacher

[Craise Finton Kirk]

Record No1:

'The Poacher' - Ronnie Lane (lovely intro)

[Tiger Lil']

The Oakham Poachers

you can have a listen here.



ummm...i think i'm a member there! hello cresby!

[dulcinea]

I Am The Walrus



if we are to have a poaching orgy, i thought it best to get the eggman... i have them benedictine or florentine...

[sea horse]

Poacher Man - Grover Washington Junior

According to an article in the Daily Telegraph a while back "The latest craze among middle-class thrill-seekers craving the adrenaline rush of an extreme sport is the age-old art of poaching". The article went on to criticize poachers and no doubt the newspaper would have liked, like a couple of centuries ago, to have the poachers hanged or sent to .... Australia.

So despite the popularity of the Grundy family, poaching still frowned upon in the UK.

However in France the attitude is different; several places proudly have Museums of Poaching, seeing a worthiness in its origins because it was the good ordinary people's way of bypassing the restrictive practices the evil landowning gentry.
And Bastille Day is coming around again soon! Let them eat omelette!

[sea horse]

Can I just say ... some forum/MB/chatroom website administrators now have so-called Poaching and Pimping Policies, this presumably because the admin types fear desertion from members, and moving or copying of threads and themes to elsewhere.
At those places, if members even suggest elsewhere might be worth a look, not to mention members are seen to take ideas from the original website to another, they get banned from the original site. I'm glad we know no such sites.

Since poaching is like rustling cattle in the Wild West, this bit of a song by Schubert seems appropriate, as it deals with rustling and the dilemma about where you might best feel at ease.

(Schubert had problems of a different nature about where to hang his hat)

Der Lindenbaum Am Brunnen vor dem Tore Da steht ein Lindenbaum Ich träumt in seinem Schatten So manchen süßen Traum Ich schnitt in seine Rinde so manches liebes Wort Es zog in Freud und Leide Zu ihm mich immer fort Ich mußt auch heute wandern Vorbei in tiefer Nacht Da hab ich noch im Dunkel Die Augen zugemacht Und seine Zweige rauschten Als riefen sie mir zu: "Komm her zu mir, Geselle Hier findst du deine Ruh" Die kalten Winde bliesen Mir grad ins Angesicht Der Hut flog mir vom Kopfe Ich wendete mich nicht Nun bin ich manche Stunde Entfernt von diesem Ort Und immer hör ich's rauschen: "Du fändest Ruhe dort"

The Linden Tree By the well before the village gateway There stands an old Linden tree, And under its shade I've dreamt Many a sweet dream. I've carved in its bark, Many a word of love, And in times of joy and sorrow It always drew me near. Today I again had to go Past it in the deep night, And there, even in the darkness I closed my eyes tight. And its branches rustled As if they were calling to me: "Come to me, friend, Here, you'll find your peace" The cold winds were blowing Straight into my face, My hat flew off my head, But I did not turn around. Now I am many hours Distant from that place, And still I hear it whispering "You'd find peace with me"