Blue Waters

                                          Off Newcastle: Press photo.

BLUE WATERS

Oh what spoilt brats we are, who have life on a plate!

Who sit in pillowy arm-chairs and merely contemplate!

Not for us the clinging wet-suit, constricting all out bits!

Not for us the dragging over hips to make sure that it fits!

We don't have to have a hard pipe inserted on our tongues

To make sure the precious oxygen gets delivered to our lungs!

We don't have to flop in backwards into water freezing cold!

For we're not young and limber and we're certainly not bold!

No! We can sit and sip our coffee and gaze at our TV

And swim round underwater in the blue depths of the sea.

We can marvel at the corals as they wave in pinks and blues,

With little fish in residence, of varying brilliant hues.

We can 'Oooh!' and 'Aaaah!' to out hearts content and never even stir!

We can even leisurely point out the things that we prefer.

Earlier generations had to make-do with a sketch

Drawn by a passing sailor in some fishing-boat or ketch.

Oh what spoilt brats we are, who have life on a plate!

Who sit in pillowy arm-chairs and merely contemplate!

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                    Mulready 

THE SHY SUITOR.

"My deerest luv, Evanjeleen,
Thow art the sweetest gerl Ive seen!
I thort Id rite this sonnit for you
To tell you that I do addore you.
Yor nose is o so very pritty
Thers no nose like it in the sitty.
Yor tiny litle slenda wayst
Is egzactly to my tayst.
Now that we are boath sicsteen
If Im a King can you be Cween?
Forgiv me if I seem cwite shy.
I now Ill luv you till I die.
See, Ive ritten forteen lines!
Sonnits are just lik valentyns!"
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