THE TANGLED WEB
THE TANGLED WEB
Oh what a tangled web we weave
When we step-out on-line
The web has the power to deceive,
Entangle and malign.
The Internet was hailed
As a transformer of our lives
But now we see it has the power
To maim with a thousand knives.
First come the trolls, those nasty tykes
Who aim to be unkind,
Who send mean messages to those
To whom fates been unkind.
Find the bereaved and mock their grief,
That's one thing that they do
And this is an aspect of living
That's absolutely new.
Then there are scams, deceptive leads
That lead only to fraud.
They flourish everywhere it seems
Both at home and abroad.
Millions of dollars have been lost
By innocents who've paid
For goods that they will never see
And trips that won't be made.
Then there are Trojan horses
Which invade and pulverize.
Not to mention pornography
Sights not for normal eyes.
The web is indeed a spiders Web
Where lurk a thousand threats
The further that its threads are spread
The more dangerous it gets.
And yet it is a wonder
This web that spans the earth.
So many pleasures are therein
So many things of worth.
If we keep our wits about us
Mindful of threats were under
We can still enjoy the web
As a positive modern wonder.
I had the misfortune to go to a funeral yesterday. I had known Nan for several years without being a really close friend. Nan was profoundly deaf during her final years and it was difficult to communicate with her but she communicated so well with her smile and her eyes that this did not always matter. Fred, her husband, always carried a notebook to scribble messages to her. He died fairly recently and she must have missed this link with the outside world terribly. Her son read a eulogy and during the course of it he said 'We found this poem among Mum's effects. We had never seen it before and I would like to thank the unknown writer." As he read it I realised that it was one I had printed on this blog in 2008! I was very touched.
Some find their glass half-empty,
And some, of a happier kind,
Feel their glass is still half-full,
With some wine still left behind.
They concentrate on the colour,
The aroma of the wine,
And, even if life lets them down,
They still feel that it's fine.
They refuse to get too dreary,
They refuse to shed a tear,
Though they may miss half the music
Because they cannot hear.
Nan is the girl in question,
Nan of the smiling face.
She may not hear too clearly,
But she acts with charm and grace.
She joins in every party,
She smiles a cheerful smile,
She never let's things get her down
For that is not her style.
For her the wine still bubbles,
In a beautiful half-full glass,
For Nan is a lady we treasure,
Yes, Nan is a lady with class.