When we expire we breathe our last,
And lose our game with death,
'Ex' means 'out', so it's quite clear
That 'spire' has the meaning 'breath'.
And so it follows that 'in' means 'in'
When we think of the word 'inspire';
We're breathing in and staying alive;
Breath is what lives require.
But the inspiration referred to here
Is of another kind;
It involves breathing-in ideas,
Into our welcoming mind.
Someone's behaviour, someone's words
Can be an inspiration,
Can change the fortunes of one man
Or invigorate a nation.
When Martin Luther King declared
That he had had a dream
Suddenly his listeners
All latched-on to his theme.
All latched-on to his theme.
An entire generation
Was, as one, inspired;
Was, as one, inspired;
Anything seemed possible;
That was all that it required.
So, when you're breathing in and out,
Consider imagination;
If your soul is breathing-in ideas,
One could be an inspiration.
*
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DREAM DESTINATION
Maggie Smith has a lot to answer for,
Along with other actors;
They are not entirely guilty
But they are important factors
Contributing to the sorrow
I carry inside of me.....
The sorrow that reiterates
'Now you'll never see Tuscany.'
Supposing there were a Heaven,
I'd ask for it to be
Exactly like the mental picture
I have of Tuscany.
And yet, amazingly, I've been there!
Or, at least, I have passed through.
You'd think I'd be able to tell you
If the advertising's true!
We had journeyed to Europe
With knapsacks on our backs,
Intending to see Europe
Via the railway tracks.
But in Paris icy rain came down,
In Rome it was the same.
In Florence it really bucketed!
A late Spring was to blame.
Dishevilled, wet and miserable
We decided to go home,
Turning our backs on the dreariness
And misery that was Rome.
'Let us try Lugano first.'
Both of us agreed
And we set off for Switzerland
With rather half-hearted speed.
And so we sped through Tuscany
On a very humdrum train
And we couldn't see the countryside
Because of the pouring rain!
Maybe it was only the edge of it;
I was in no mood to wonder,
Since I was only conscious
Of the grey clouds we were under.
Lugano was delightful,
As we hoped that it would be,
But now I'm left with this sadness.....
'I'll never see Tuscany'.
*
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