© Alan D. Pencavel 2012
All rights reserved. No form of publication of any part of this book shall be made without the written permission of the copyright holder and publisher.
First published in New Zealand by Alan D. Pencavel during March 2012
ISBN 978-0-473-20053-4
Also written and published by the same author ...
WINDAS ... and how to clean 'em
DEDICATION
To my two constant companions, here in New Zealand, Sheila (my spouse) and Romeo (our Foxie).
To my mother, Dorothy May, 88 years young, living in Bexhill, Sussex and still very compos mentis. She replies to my regular letters, by return of post, with the same consistent hand-writing that she has always used, since I can remember. Most octogenarians are given a licence to become a bit spidery in that department.
Not Dot.
(That’s the first and shortest poem of this script.)
Locally, she still drives to whist, bridge and solo evenings, most nights of the week and annually re-books to attend week-long card ‘shuffles’ (holidays) in Bournemouth and Lytham St.Annes, respectively.
Long may she continue to do so.
(Dot and Romeo now rest in peace.)
To all my other relatives, including both generations of them, after my own. I’m pleased to say there is not yet a third.
(Tempus fugit but surely not so fast!)
All our remaining family members still reside in the United Kingdom.
We are the only ones to have emigrated ... so far!
Since June '22 Sheila and I have been living back in England to see more of the family in our latter years. Thankfully, all our clan were able to visit us while we lived in New Zealand.
CONTENTS
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Author’s comment
Thinking
Introducing (A B C 1 2 3)
2 Translating
3 Roadsharing
4 Nurseryrhyming
5 Forecasting
6 Homophoning
7 Limericking
8 Wondering
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
To WPClipart (www.wpclipart.com)
Many thanks for allowing me to use your drawings / photos for inclusion in this publication.
Thanks also to Kate for your help with the technical side of book production.
AUTHOR’S COMMENT
Everyone needs a hobby or an outlet of some description.
The author enjoys his work, from Mondays to Fridays. During the weeks he and his wife sail their own little ship, as they run a small window cleaning business together, in the rapidly growing town of Cambridge, on the North Island of New Zealand.
At weekends, they partake in their own respective sporting interests. Alan plays at golf and Sheila plays with horses.
However, as there are many other hours during the week, a hobby (as opposed to a sporting pursuit) is a necessity for maintaining the author’s sanity. Having always been pretty active and moderately sound, in both body and mind, he takes pleasure in transmitting his thoughts onto paper. To him, silent thoughts are just wasted. He may as well record at least some of them, in the hope that they were created for a reason.
Sometimes, a bit of peace and quiet is the order of the day, which Alan enjoys in the office upstairs, sitting in front of his magic box. Sheila sits with Romeo and absorbs scripts from a variety of soap operas and documentary channels, on the other box, in the lounge downstairs.
In 2009, Alan released his first publication, which was a tongue-in-cheek account of his eighteen years of buffing glass for locals. He only intended to produce his first book to rid that item from his bucket list. However, he was asked to contribute a regular piece of poetry, to a local newspaper, which he did for over a year, before running out of inspiration. Then, he found himself almost thinking in rhyme.
I hope you’ll enjoy bits of it but I give you no guarantees that you will.
As the loser said to his thirteenth wife, “Variety is the spice of life.”
It is certainly the essence of this, my second book.
My first publication is entitled WINDAS ... and how to clean ‘em. This has been published on my site but can't be read at one sitting!
If you don’t enjoy this read then I suppose the odds are that you won’t bother reading that one either!
So be it. I’m not going to twist your arm. Life will go on, as it does.
Go to your local library. You don’t have to feel obliged to buy a copy. The author does have a proper job, you know!
What I plan to do (as otherwise this would be a very short read) is encourage you to take as long to read this page as I did to write it. It is not a book to be scanned, then discarded. For best effect, it should be read carefully and savoured over a period of time, like a fine wine. There are some passages that took me a considerable time to compose, so I would like my readers to enjoy absorbing the script as much as I enjoyed writing it. Whether you get maximum enjoyment or not, I'd like to think you gave yourself a chance to do so. After all, it's not going to be a big chunk out of your life, so give it a go, spanning it over a few weeks. There's plenty of other material on the site for you to fill in the gaps between chapters of my book. (You could always try another chapter or two of 'Windas'! You may not have reached chapter forty-six yet!). That book now has its own page and is complete, so give it another try if you didn't get far at your first attempt! Enjoy!
L&P
hink
But I’m going to endeavour
To compose some rhyme
Or this chance may be gone forever
A B C -- D E
Here comes some poetry
F G H -- I ,J
It’s definitely on its way
K L M -- N O
I’ll start off small and see it grow
P Q R -- S T
Inspiration will come to me
U V W -- X Y Z
The rhymes are currently in my head.
1, 2, 3, -- 4,5,6
These poems will be a real mix
7 8 9 10
Ideas come, just now and then
11 12 13
Have a read to see what I mean!
When a midwife delivers a baby
An infant begins his fight
Each day ahead will test him
'til one day he'll see the light.
The ‘newborn’ may be ugly
She’ll grizzle from the off
She’ll gurgle and cry when hungry
She’ll spit and fart and cough
Our kids are going to be precious
We hope, their whole lives through
They may have been born with wrinkles
But they’ll soon look good as new
We can’t predict the future
But we hope that things go well
We trust our babies will be healthy
But only time will tell.
He may be the oldest brother
Or she may be an only child
He may be full of anger
Or she may be meek and mild.
Each baby is surely a miracle
Complete with her parents’ traits
We’ll pray that she’ll be happy
And that success in life awaits
Our ‘baby’ will soon be a toddler
He’ll begin to understand
He'll want to please his Mum and Dad
By offering a helping hand
She will learn from our examples
We must show her right from wrong
She'll be influenced by others
And learning won’t take long
He’ll yell if he doesn’t win
But his parents will only ruin him
If they always choose to give in.
She’ll know the name of her teacher
She’ll begin to make some friends
She’ll learn to mix with others
But she’ll tire, as each day ends
Staff will meet with his parents
To tell them how he’s faring
We hope they’ll teach and protect him
In an atmosphere of caring
The kids will befriend each other
Their confidence will grow
As they play together
they’ll find their strengths
Improvising, as they go
There’ll be rules the kids should comply with
Children need to have boundaries
To know how far they may roam
It shouldn’t be hard to show her
Our love and how much we care
We hope that she’ll love us back one day
We’ll have fun but we need to be fair
As he toddles he’ll also be testing
To see how far he can go
By the time he starts his schooling
Some basics he’ll hopefully know
She should recognise a few numbers
And understand As Bs and Cs
She must ask for something politely
And say, "Thanks" and also
"Yes ... Please."
The first day at school is a milestone
Our child will now be five
He may take time to settle in
But soon he will learn to thrive
Next, they’ll be going to High School
Where they’ll really begin to ‘mature’
They’ll find that life will get tougher
At times they won’t be too sure
As our young ones get bigger and stronger
They will act in different ways
And compel them to be in the wrong
To most kids in their teens
Their physical and mental development
Will be determined largely by genes
Opinions are many and varied
Expectations are different, too
Our youths may find that confusing
They won’t always know what to do
as they develop at different rates
We'll do what we can to guide them
To steer them through the right gates
Quite often they’ll think they know best
But together we’ll do our utmost
To prepare them for leaving our nest.
To sum up the role of we parents
Through difficult, formative years
We should strive to help protect our kids
By allaying their anger and fears.
There are words that we used in the sixties
Which don’t mean now what they did
In this current age of ‘progress’
Grammar is often ‘hid’
A motherboard was for ironing
And a ram was a male sheep
A hard drive was in the snow and ice
And a browser would take a peep
A scroll was a roll of paper
A dell, a small wooded hollow
A monitor gave out the pencils at school
And a blue ray was hard to swallow
We were able to see through a window
On a keyboard a tune we’d play
On a transistor we’d listen to programmes
And to what guest speakers might say
A stick we’d have used as a prop
A conductor took our fares on a bus
And a terminal was where it would stop
A mouse was a little rodent
And chips we’d eat with fish
A spreadsheet we’d use when camping out
And the spoon ran away with the dish
An apple we took for the teacher
And a tablet we took for pain
A bank was where we’d put money
We’d take a drive down memory lane
We hadn’t heard of ‘software’
A ‘P.C.’ enforced the law back then
And ‘hardware’ was metal or wood
A game controller was a referee
And games were played with mates
Now all you need is a lap-top
We used to boot up to play soccer
We’d stand on a wall to get higher
A font was used at a Christening
When cold, we’d put a log on the fire
As time goes on these words may stay
But their meanings will change again
If I live to be a hundred
..... By then I'll be insane!
I may sound like a cynic
but maybe a cynic I am
I’ve been sharing roads for years now,
with drivers who don’t give a damn.
Sitting behind the wheel of your car,
you’ve slowed down to let someone in
This ‘someone’ hasn’t noticed you
and your patience starts wearing thin.
Finally, you decide to continue,
when this idiot puts down his foot
He gives you a middle finger
and a look as black as soot
When trying to escape from a side-road,
to merge with a line of cars
A queue that’s almost static,
touching bumper bars
Not one of the drivers has considered your plight,
by letting you come on in
You’re reminded of that old adage
…“Ignorance is sin!”
The racer behind you cuts inside
and overtakes at a hundred and twenty
When driving today you need caution
… and patience … and I mean plenty
You've been driving on the motorway
and seen a clown in the outside lane
At fifty he's just a menace
so you flash him to get out of the way.
When in your van at traffic lights
you’ve seen an ugly young fella with spots
Sitting in his mother’s car,
next to you, frowning lots.
He thinks it’s a race
and he’s with his mates,
so he’s looking ever so keen
To burn his tyres and waste his fuel,
as soon as the lights turn green.
As you’ve cruised along at ninety,
with a long, clear road ahead
There’s a driver too close behind you,
making you see red.
As a bend appears, you’ve slowed right down,
as a vehicle comes into sight
This ‘loser’ has started to overtake.
Some drivers are not too bright !
You’ve just approached a roundabout,
Behind a ‘Ute’ with a dog on its deck
It’s been standing, loose and barking,
with veins sticking out of its neck
The vehicle is dusty and dirty
and there’s no signal letting you know
Of the driver’s intention when he gets there,
or where he’s likely to go.
When a driver puts his lights on,
It means he can't see the road
But the lights are for others to see him
As it says in the Highway Code
The indicator lets others know
just what he intends to do
But it’s not much help, when it starts to wink,
long after his move is through.
If a pedestrian stands at a crossing, take your foot off the gas and give way
A smile or a wave or a “Thanks, Mate!”
may even make your day.
Take pleasure in letting a car go ahead
and to see a happy face
Don’t think, setting off in the morning,
that you’ve started another race.
Why wait forever at a roundabout,
when a gap needs your car to fill it?
Don’t drink your coffee while you’re turning,
as you’ll probably jerk and spill it.
Leave your phone in your handbag,
as the caller will just have to wait
Though you might find it tempting,
be patient and don’t take the bait.
It’s a good job a vehicle has a mirror,
so a driver can see what’s behind
It would be better still if he used it
but many prefer driving blind
Roads are for sharing with others,
and it’s best when traffic flows
Then everyone gets where he wants to
… wherever everyone goes.
You needed to park in the street for a while
As you were just nipping into the bank
After fifteen minutes a car backs out
The space is stolen ... how your heart sank !
Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet
She had a cold and a nasty cough
Along came a spider, who sat down beside her
She told it to “B*gger off!”
One, two, three, four, five
I didn’t even catch a sprat
Six, seven, eight, nine, ten
I didn’t really think much of that
“Baa Baa Black Sheep
You’re looking pretty cool”
“So would you be too, Mate,
If you’d just lost your wool”
Jack Sprat could eat no fat
His wife was full of lard
They now survive on take-aways
As cooking at home’s too hard
Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep
They seem to have gone astray
Leave them alone and they’ll come home
“Don’t worry, they’ll be OK”
The owl and the pussycat went to see
A play at the local theatre
They took some money and plenty of honey
But Popcorn may have gone down better
Little Jack Horner sat in a corner
He’d bought himself a nice fruit cake
He put in is thumb but there was no plum
He thought, “What a bl**dy fake!”
Mary Mary was quite contrary
Her garden was full of weeds
Instead of silver bells and things
She should have given it what it needs
Jack and Jill went up the hill
They’d fancied stretching their legs
Jill had been hanging her washing out
But she’d just run out of pegs
“Pat a Cake Pat a Cake Baker’s Man
I don’t want bread but I’d like a meat pie”
“Then go down the road to the butcher’s shop
Unless my bread you will buy”
Old King Cole was a Merry Old Soul
(But he’d fallen out with his fiddlers)
When he called them in to play a tune
They’d gone fishin’ to catch some tiddlers
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
But he wasn’t feeling well
He took great care to stay upright
Remembering when he fell
Diddle Diddle Dumpling … my son John
A stupid boy was he
He went to bed with his trousers on
And got up again at three
Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard
To find her ‘Patch’ some treats
She found a bar of chocolate
But that’s not what he eats
Little Boy Blue come blow your horn
“I can’t ‘cos I’m much too busy.”
“So ask the boy who looks after the sheep”
“I did … but he said he felt dizzy”
There was a crooked man who’d bought a crooked house
A crooked gate and stile had he
He went to see his lawyer
But he said, “What will be will be”
This little piggy went to market
He was loaded onto a truck
He fancied a plate of roast beef
But he sure was out of luck
Polly put the kettle on
She’d developed quite a thirst
But she’d just run out of tea-bags
She should have checked that first
Hickory, Dickory Dock
It was eleven forty-five
The mouse was scratching his little head
Should he duck or should he dive?
Don’t believe everything you read !
Three blind mice
They all ran after the farmer’s wife
She cut off their tails with a carving knife
(Did you ever hear such a silly rhyme in your life?)
Tom Tom the piper’s son
Stole a pig and away he ran
The pig was eat and he was beat
(Make sense of that if you can)
Hey Diddle Diddle, the cat and the fiddle
The cow couldn’t really care less
The little dog laughed and looked up at the moon
This lazy cow was called Bess
(What?)
Mary had another little lamb
Which was being quite contrary
It wasn’t drinking any of the milk
That she’d just bought at the dairy
Old King Cole was merry again
He’d been out with the Duke of York
He was far too wobbly to sit on his throne
The Queen thought, “What a Dork!”
When Polly put the kettle on
In came the baker’s man
They sang a song of sixpence
Drank tea and ate his flan
The owl and the piggy went to sea
So the pussycat sat on a tuffet
Jack Sprat buckled his shoe
While Wee Willie sat with Miss Muffet
“Hey! … Diddle Diddle Dumpling … my son! ”
John went to see Mother Hubbard
He wanted to see if she’d been to the shops
So he poked his nose in her cupboard
Little Miss Muffet went to market
Jack and Jill went round the corner
The crooked man was killing time
With his buddy, Little Jack Horner
Three blind mice saw a pussy in the well
And Humpty was sat on his wall
A spider sat down beside him
Again, he tried not to fall
Old Mother Hubbard put the kettle on
Wee Willie had a pocket full of rye
Little Bo Peep went to market
And the dog saw a cow in the sky
(“I didn’t know bells could talk.”)
Here comes a chopper to chop off your head
“Yeah! Right! Then I’ll go for a walk.”
See-Saw Marjorie Daw
Johnny only had one thing to say
“I really must find a new master
Who pays more than a penny a day.”
“Where on Earth is Tommy Stout?”
“He’s gone to find the farmer
To help him pull it out”
Tigger, the dog, had been given a bone
That Old Mother Hubbard had found
But, on deciding to eat it later
He buried it in the ground
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe
She had so many kids it wasn’t funny
She had no broth or even a whip
‘cos she didn’t have any money
1, 2, 3, 4, 5
Once I caught a fish alive
Why did you let him go?
I didn’t but he took a dive
Mary had a little lamb
But the midwife wasn’t sure
Until she counted all its legs
But it definitely had four
It made some funny noises
And wasn’t all that happy
Until the midwife laid it on its back
And secured a nice dry nappy
Mary had a little lamb
It’s fleece was grey and dreary
But it didn’t follow her anywhere
As it always felt too weary
I had a little nut tree
Nothing would it bear
So I pulled it out and planted
Another fruit tree there
Little Bo Beep had lost her sheep
They’d gone and they didn’t come back
Needless to say she was a waste of space
So the shepherd gave her the sack
When we listen to our weather man
Who comes on every night
We can’t be really certain
That he’s going to be right
He covers just a little ground
With satellites and all
He’ll tell us where it’s been raining
And where grass is growing tall
He can say where it’s been sunny
And where wind has blown trees down
That we may get rain tomorrow
(But ‘does a circus have a clown’?)
My granny used to tell us kids
That when cows are lying down
That the rain is heading for us
So take a brolly into town
They didn’t pay our granny much
But more often she’d be right
Than the man who waved his finger
On the T.V. news each night
We live on windy islands
Where conditions often shift
I’d rather listen to farmers
Who seem to have an in-built gift
With an age of shifting stock around
Of looking at the skies
Their lives depend on climate
They’ve learned from birds and flies
All creatures have their habits
They’ve taught our farmers lots
I’d rather put my trust in them
Than a weatherman’s lines and dots
He can tell us on a Monday
That the weekend’s looking fine
But the wind may change direction
His guess is as good as mine
OK, at times he’ll get it right
… but only now and then
If we judged him on performance
He may get six marks out of ten
So, I’ve been a bit tough on the forecasters
Who are only doing their job
I’m sure they all do their very best
To earn an honest bob
For thinking the outlook’s bleak
Don’t worry, Mr. Weatherman
What I’ve said was tongue-in-cheek !
Inter’lude’ ( … ‘lewd’ being the appropriate word)
If you’ve been reading continuously
You may need to go to the toilet
So we’ll take a look at the forecast now
Then you won’t miss much and spoil it
Seriously, “Here is the weather forecast”
There’ll be a low disappearing from the west
And a high approaching from the east
There’ll be several days of nice blue skies
Great for a ‘Barbie’, or feast
The wind will be very changeable
Drive carefully when it’s not dry
Snow will fall and there’ll be icy roads
But there won’t be a cloud in the sky
Some farmers will be happy
And others will be sad
In the north there’ll be lots of sunshine
But in the south it may be bad
The sun will dry the paddocks
While the rain will make roads greasy
In the east there won’t be a breath of air
While the west will find it breezy
The southerly gale will cool things down
While a northerly will warm your noses
The frost will put paid to little seeds
While the sun will be good for the roses
The northerly will be nippy
And the southerly pretty hot
(Please don’t contradict me …
because I know what is what!)
On Monday there will be lots of sun
On Tuesday there’ll be rain
Wednesday may bring more showers
But on Thursday, nice again
Friday will be quite windy
On Saturday, buy a ticket
‘cos on Sunday it’ll be gorgeous
A good day for watching cricket
Airports will close because of fog
Trains will stop for snow and ice
In many regions it’ll be stormy
But in others it’s sure to be nice
There’s going to be widespread flooding
But there will also be a drought
At last meteorologists have sussed it
At last they’ve worked it out !
“That was the guaranteed forecast for the entire planet, for the whole of next year.”
When last did you receive a guarantee with a weather forecast, especially covering such a vast area, over such a lengthy period ?
I can feel a muse, if you’d like to muse, too
I hope this will amuse you two, too
May I suggest that if you couldn’t care less
Feel free to skip a page … or three
You may find these pathetic
but I could have made them worse
Nod your head or raise an eyebrow,
mutter, sigh, or curse
But should you even chuckle,
or there’s a line that makes you grin,
then that’ll be all I needed
to consider it a win
The English language has words galore
And some you may not have heard before
To find the meaning of homophone
Google on your phone at home
I’m not averse to a verse … or two.
Here’s one line, or two, for free, four you.
Hear this here, in its entirety!
(I’m going to dig a whole hole here for myself)
“My word!” I whirred, when I heard a herd
It’s obscene !
I’ve been and seen a pretty scene
But I’ve also been seen to cause a scene
When I’ve been to pick someone else’s bean.
Not having first been and seen
where that bean had been
It was great !
I was so grateful, as I was
grating a great big cheese,
over a grate, which
produced a full grate full!
May I interest you in cheese and wine?
Or perhaps you’d prefer some cheese, then whine?
“I’ve never felt better…
Of all the felt hats that I’ve ever felt,
I’ve never felt a felt hat
that felt like that felt hat felt.
… No wonder I felt good!”
“Would you please rifle through tha drawer for a rifle for me to draw.
Pleas(e)!”
Will you bear with me for a little while
as I play and have a grin.
I couldn’t bear it when a bare bear
punched me on the chin.
(Bear this in mind: - I was filled with chagrin.)
It’s only fair that you pay your fare
when you take your kids to the fair.
But don’t pare a pair of pears there
because they’re not yours but theirs.
Who was never one to mingle
He preferred catching pearls
To chatting up girls
So it’s hardly surprising he’s single
We once knew a farmer from Gore
But, all said and done, he was poor
He had no decent grass
Was on the bones of his arse
He couldn’t even carpet his floor
A woman came here from Wales
She had a face like a bag of nails
On her flag was a dragon
She drank gin from a flagon
And she lived in the City of Sails
They dug for gold but what will be, will be
Later on,
With the diggers gone
Paeroa became famous for L & P
This Aussie arrived from Perth
No-one quite knew what he was worth
But w hat was so funny
Was, despite all his money
He was always ‘down to earth’
Had problems, to do with his kidney
You’d think he was tough
But when the going got rough
He soon gave up trying, didn’ he?
This guy came over from Broome
There was a wedding and he was the groom
His wife was Kitty
She was ever so pretty
But he’d booked a single room
This rich couple flew over from Alice
They had absolutely no malice
They’d brought their Dingo
He was called Ringo
And they soon settled into their palace
An Englishman, from Kent
Posed, as a real gent
But he was no good
He was no Robin Hood
He was soon found out to be bent
A Welshman landed from Barry
A Kiwi girl he did marry
He soon was in trouble
She’d done the double
Her other husband was Gary
He stayed in Dunedin for free
He had no mates
And didn’t like Speights
So he drowned himself in the sea
An Irishman from ‘Derry
Had a nose as red as a cherry
He wasn’t a thinker
But more of a drinker
Not gay, but usually merry
I once knew a really nice chappie
He was born and bred in Taihape
He led a family life
With nine kids and a wife
But he never once changed a nappy
This Frenchman loved Akaroa
He had twins, so they called him Noah
He loved Crafts and Arts
And picturesque parts
(He’d been around since the Moa)
Played rugby and he was the kicker
He was ever so keen
And kept himself lean But he suffered, with a dodgy ticker
This geyser from Rotorua
Had a wife but nobody knew ‘er
On noses were pegs
‘cos he smelt of bad eggs
With an odour worse than a sewer
This guy from Tongariro
Had a dog he’d Christened Nero
They walked the tracks
With heavy packs
He soon became a local hero
This fella was born in the sticks
A loner, he just didn’t mix
He moved into town
But that got him down
A problem he just couldn’t fix
A yokel came from Kilkenny
He arrived with his sister, Jenny
He’d farmed, that’s true
But he didn’t have a clue
Nor did he have a brass penny
This ‘Boyo’ from Wales called Dai
Was dreaming, one night, he could fly
He came to Godzone
All on his own
Against the All Blacks he scored a try
(He was still dreaming!)
This guy phoned the gym about yoga
As his ‘Doc’ had given him warnings
They asked him if he was flexible
He said, “I can’t make Monday mornings.”
Wee Willie Winkie ran through the town
Why on Earth? Just what was the point?
That author was away
with the fairies that day
(Maybe he’d found himself a joint?)
I knew a guy who was always working
You would never catch him shirking
As a Marine, he was tough
He couldn’t sweat enough
But his six-pack soon became a firkin
This young girl went to a party
She’d dressed up a little bit ‘’Tartie’
You can guess the rest
With a child she was blessed
The pill she took was a Smartie
There once was a guy from Paihia
Who fished in the sea with no fear
When the going got tough
And the sea got rough
He’d soothe himself with a beer
This is chapter eight and I reckon I’m nearly done
But please, before I finish, consider this final pun
I’m going now for a wander
But I hope you’ll take time to ponder
If not, just wonder why I’ve been having fun
You may have looked through a microscope
At animals, so small we can’t see?
Have you ever considered perspective
“What giants we really must be!”
Have you ever sat down on a rock at the beach?
Have you looked, where the sky meets the sea?
If so, have you found yourself thinking …
… the truth is … “How tiny are we?!”
When in bed, I bet you’ve heard noises
That perhaps made you somewhat wary
Did you shut your eyes tight and see colours
And maybe found it … just a bit scary?
Outside, have you looked up at night-time
And tried to comprehend
The meaning of this universe?
Just where does it start and end?
Man was first born ‘equal’
But it was he who erected fences
Then some became richer than others
By making best use of their senses
Have you visited America’s Grand Canyon
Or sniffed cut grass, freshly raked?
Have you seen the Great Pyramid of Giza
And smelt hot bread, freshly baked?
No doubt you’ve smelt the roses
And have tasted Chinese Chop Suey?
You’ve listened to Handel’s Messiah
And the amazing sound of the Tui
You will have stroked a well-groomed puppy
And a rich green velvet, felt?
Do you know how many light years away
Are the stars in Orion’s Belt?
This world is full of wonder
Like the symmetry of a bird in flight
In a gale have you heard the sails flapping
As your child’s been playing with his kite?
Go back to the sea, then look at the stones
Some sharp, some round and some flat
How long do you think they’ve been there?
Stop, and think about that !
Look up again at the clouds in the sky
Then fly in a plane and look down
Before the sun sets, see the fields of green
And the river that runs into town
You may recall things of the past
You may meet up with friends of yore
But why don’t these images last?
An army of ants working hard on the ground
Each one has a life of its own
How big we must seem, as they look in awe
They’re tiny, though fully grown
This box is full of magic
But I don’t feel full of wonder
As I do when the sky above me
Is filled with lightning and thunder
We build bridges, houses and boats
But that does not inspire me
Like a bubble does, as it floats
Big dams, high roofs and prisons
We build for our own protection
We’ve dug large pools, full of water
But we can’t make a reflection
When I believe I really make a difference
When I stop trying to wonder, why?
Then it’s time for me to go outside again
And take another look at the sky
Look away from the sea, at the mountains
At the clouds that hover above
You may see a bird in the distance
An albatross, eagle or dove
Before you become unconscious
As you lie awake and muse
Try again to perceive your existence
Relax … and let your mind cruise!
If you started at the beginning
And you’ve managed to get this far
Take credit from the author
He thinks you’re a real star!
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