At the eleventh hour we stop and remember, we stand in silence for a minute. Then life (and death) goes on.

Rolling Fields Of Red.

Today is the day the Great War ended,
It’s been one hundred years to the day,
On the bloody fields a peace descended,
Under those fields thousands molder away.

The world was back at war twenty years later,
More fathers and sons gone to eternal rest
One world war’s toll was bad, Two was greater,
One losing leader could not accept second best.

The most evolved on Gods earth are still learning,
Brave soldiers still march into fading memory,  
In fields the whole world over are old soldiers turning
At the thought of honour, glory and empty victory?

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The crown weighs heavy on the Head at times. These are right royal troubling times. So show a little sympathy, please.

Pardon The Subject.

After a fresh new dawn, clear and bright
Dark times have come for the kingdoms Lord,
Another wrong to right, another obituary to write
When he who wields the pen yields to the sword.

(I try to leaven these posts with a bit of humor. I can’t see much to smile about on some of the days these day though.)

Ah, I somehow missed the passing of Burt Reynolds. So it’s a late eulogy to the late Burt.

Bye bye Burt.

It’s the final curtain for cool Cosmopolitan Bandit Burt,
The epitome of the seventies man, as your Mama can assert,
A twinkling eye, a cocked eyebrow, that mountebanks mustache-
Then and now he could elicit in the ladies a damn indecent hot flash.

John McCain and the president. Never got on then, not getting on now, even with one gone. Though, for once, Don seems lost for words.

Edgewise.

With the sad demise of John McCain
The President made his feelings plain,
A White House tribute he will not entertain.

Oh, he sent out his condolences with a tweet,
His hoary old ‘thoughts’n’prayers,’ short and sweet,
But a busy President has plans, so message complete.

Johns untimely passing causes Don a pang of remorse,
Don’s brooding that time, like money, is a finite resource-
Johns going’s gone and ruined his entire day at the golf course.

Getting wet and wild on your holiday/honeymoon. A bit of a cautionary tale.

Taken, With A Dose Of Salt.

The summer sun was dazzling bright,
The sea a’sparkling in the sunlight,
Not one solitary cooling cloud in sight
For honeymooners on the Great Australian Bight.

Up on deck after a hot ardourous night
Still this couple are feeling set to ignite,
Where, where to escape 100-degrees Fahrenheit?
The sea offers a cool promise of respite.

Skinny dipping is a sheer naked delight,
The seas ebb and flow sure to primordially excite,
But bare bodies are also sure to whet the appetite
Of Tiger, Tigers, Basking, a bloody Great White.

A sporting great moves on to that great big dressing shed in the sky. ‘Bye, Ferg.

Red And Black And Blue.

Fergie McCormick was hard as nails, tough as teak,
What carnage on the rugby field he would wreak,
Yet he had a charitable as well as a rambunctious streak,
There would always be
A card of sympathy
When you woke up sometime well into next week.