Saturday, August 11, 2012

Outmoded



PINK SATURDAY

OUTMODED

It's sad to be outmoded but it happens to us all,
And, as the ancient adage says, 'Pride comes before a fall'.
When I was young I never knew anyone with a telephone;
They were sophisticated things that only the rich would own.
So I've been constantly amazed by the fact that conversations
Can be carried-on over distances, between all far-flung nations.
And now, of course, we have mobile phones, and iphones are the latest,
And all you little upstarts seem to think that they're the greatest!
But just you wait a year or two and you will be outmoded,
And all your silly modern pride will be, for sure, eroded.
We'll have phones the size of wrist-watches that are welded to our skin,
And texts will go right to our brains  and make sense when they're in.
Our inner eye will see a screen just in our imagination!
Oh brave new world! Oh ecstasy! Oh what anticipation!
And as for you young fella-me-lads, so cocky and so spry,
You'll be out on the scrap-heap.
And so, I fear, will I.
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CROWNING GLORY

The poor old tree was standing there.
No leaf, no blossom; it was bare.
Its branches, etched against the sky,
Looked all withered, brown and dry.
The other trees in the neighbourhood
Looked green and verdant as all trees should.
Some even blazed  with red and mauve!
Quite an arborial treasure-trove.
The old tree sighed a tree-like sigh
Just as a breeze passing by;
Oh to be decked with something rare!
So that people stop and stare,
Looking at me with jaws dropping,
Saying 'My! Now there's a topping!' '
The breeze  was magic (as you guessed)
And wished to see the old tree dressed
In finery like the other trees.
(Now you're all saying 'Good old breeze!')
Next day a Marathon was run;
Some people thinking it was fun
To get all sweaty, tired and hot.
(Needless to say, friends, I do not!)
The finishing line was beneath the tree
Where all the runners yelled 'Yippee!'
Dragged off their shoes in celebration
And tossed them high in exultation.
Most of them landed in the tree,
Hanging there for all to see.
As they hung from every branch and bough
The tree exclaimed
'I'm a shoe-tree now!'

*


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