A Stroll Though Memory, Time and Politics With Stops Along The Way
The mad art director was at it again today
White paint balloons plop splat on
The blue canvas
Turn on the wind machine to steak the sky
Hit with a pink from sun positioned
In its track light circuit
So much for scenery
It’s beautiful, but is it art,
And is reality in this year?
Retired great grandmother living in the Northwest US. Former radio Public Service Director and National Accounts Manager.
I’m a hair-dishevelled heilan’ coo,
Hamish McKay be ma name;
Welcome tae this dreichet glen
I’m cursed tae ca’ ma hame.
Depending on the mood I’m in
I’ll raise ma horns on high,
An’ if I like the look o’ ye
I’ll likely let ye by.
But should I dinnae like the look
O’ ye, then tak great care,
I’ll raise ma horns on high again,
Go on, get oot o’there!
So whether welcome yae or nae,
I’ll raise these horns sae mean,
Then ye shall ken ma meaning
By the twinkle o’ ma een.
Courtesy of
MARION GRAY Wollaton Road Wollaton Park Nottingham