Hi, This blog is going to be a Poem, not one of mine but one written over 60 years ago. As a teenager i was a keen birdwatcher and i'm afraid Egg collector. As soon as i was old enough i got a job (13 i think) as a Grocery delivery boy, working 5 evening after school 4.15 till 6.15, plus Saturday mornings. For this work i was paid the princely sum of 12/6d per week (equiv 65p).On getting my first weeks wage i went sraight into town and bought myself a bird book (15/-) , the first in a series of 3. When i got home home i opened it and this was on the very first page, i read it and reread it several times so i could remember most of it by heart, that was over 50 years ago and i still love it now.The author uses the name "The Little Stint"
Its called "The Flying Machine"
When Bleriot the channel flew
The people made a great to-do;
They came in thousands just to stare
At the great conqueror of the Air
Who crossed from France to England’s shore
A flight of twenty miles or more
“How great an aeroplane!” they said:
“And what a noise the engine made!”
“And how could Bleriot know that he
Would find his way across the sea,
Which none had ever flown before?
And so they wondered more and more,
Until at last their hats they raise
And cheer to their great hero’s praise.
Yet I, when called to make my flight,
Have slipped of in an Artic night
And lightly flown o’er land and sea,
The only engine carrying me
My heart, no bigger than a shilling,
Which for twelve thousand miles is willing.
Less than two ounces is my weight.
No petrol cans increase my freight;
No chart nor compass ‘neath my eyes
To mark the track through trackless skies
And still untiring to the verge
Of Australasian ocean’s surge
From North Siberia’s coast I fly,
Spanning the globe unerringly,
No cheering thousands when I land,
No startling posters in the Strand;
No wondering word, no praise is heard,
But then, I ONLY AM A BIRD
I do hope you enjoyed it too, by the way i havn't gone all soft or anything, to prove it
Joke of the Day.
A solicitor parks his brand new Porsche in front of the office to show it off to his colleagues. As he's getting out of the car, a truck comes speeding along too close to the kerb and takes off the door before zooming off.More than a little distraught, the solicitor grabs his mobile and calls the police.Five minutes later, the police arrive. Before the policeman has a chance to ask any questions, the man starts screaming hysterically: 'My Porsche, my beautiful silver Porsche is ruined. No matter how long it's at the panel beaters, it'll simply never be the same again!'After the man finally finishes his rant, the policeman shakes his head in disgust. 'I can't believe how materialistic you bloody solicitors are,' he says. 'You lot are so focused on your possessions that you don't notice anything else in your life' 'How can you say such a thing at a time like this?' sobs the Porsche owner.The policeman replies: 'Didn't you realise that your arm was torn off when the truck hit you?' The solicitor looks down in horror. 'BLOODY HELL!' he screams...
'Where's my Rolex????