if...then, why? No, never "why"!
for i, who me? No, "i".
What does it do? When did I write it?
I mustn't make changes, it works now, it works!
I can't quite see how, I don't know what I did,
It must have been clever, it's really well hid.
do...while, while what? There's a thought!
select...case, select what case?
It doesn't make sense now, I'm sure once it did.
At least it compiles, so it doesn't quite matter,
Though reading it now, makes me mad, like the hatter.
public class, when? An object! Not School!
final static, what? Constantly seen.
I can hack it some more, but don't want it to break.
Though I can't quite explain it, it fills me with pride,
I've even composed it, just 80 chars wide...
Tuesday, 11 October 2011
Monday, 25 April 2011
ANZAC
It was well before dawn, and they'd been up hours already.
Almost certainly it was cold, and probably wet.
They knew that they might not survive the day,
but they didn't complain.
Most of us didn't even know them, yet they fought for us.
Willing to make the ultimate sacrifice.
When we complain of the early hour, we should remember them.
When we complain it is cold and wet, we should remember them.
When we lack courage to face the day, we should remember them.
Whenever we see the need to complain we should remember them.
Without the bravery of ANZAC, life here would not be the same.
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning: we will remember them!
Almost certainly it was cold, and probably wet.
They knew that they might not survive the day,
but they didn't complain.
Most of us didn't even know them, yet they fought for us.
Willing to make the ultimate sacrifice.
When we complain of the early hour, we should remember them.
When we complain it is cold and wet, we should remember them.
When we lack courage to face the day, we should remember them.
Whenever we see the need to complain we should remember them.
Without the bravery of ANZAC, life here would not be the same.
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning: we will remember them!
Thursday, 18 November 2010
An Odd World
A kid 'wags' school, so we suspend them,
A car parked illegally gets wheel clamps,
Is there a touch of irony?
Do we stop people by forcing them to continue?
Should convicted thieves be locked inside banks?
It is a strange old world!!
A car parked illegally gets wheel clamps,
Is there a touch of irony?
Do we stop people by forcing them to continue?
Should convicted thieves be locked inside banks?
It is a strange old world!!
Friday, 1 October 2010
Pesky 'Pies
Wandering to the bus, thinking about things,
Suddenly startled by a flapping of wings,
Instinctively, I turn and duck,
Startled, thinking, "What the fuck?"
It flies away, I wander on,
Not too much care for where it's gone,
Then suddenly it swoops once more,
Again I dive to hit the floor.
So cautious now, I watch him sit,
On wires above (the little shit),
I glance at him, just now and then,
But suddenly, he strikes again!
I reach the stop, and find a tree,
But even so, he swoops at me,
This bugger's viscous, there's no doubt,
I wonder what he's angry about?
Another day, another swoop,
I'll have to walk a wider loop,
And find a stop that's not near him,
(the longer walk might help me slim).
Along that road I walk in fright,
My eyes are dating left and right,
I jump at any birdie sound,
There's laughs and songs from all around.
It may be dumb to fret so much,
The bird has never made a touch,
The wings so near are startling, though,
I can't wait for that bird to go!
Suddenly startled by a flapping of wings,
Instinctively, I turn and duck,
Startled, thinking, "What the fuck?"
It flies away, I wander on,
Not too much care for where it's gone,
Then suddenly it swoops once more,
Again I dive to hit the floor.
So cautious now, I watch him sit,
On wires above (the little shit),
I glance at him, just now and then,
But suddenly, he strikes again!
I reach the stop, and find a tree,
But even so, he swoops at me,
This bugger's viscous, there's no doubt,
I wonder what he's angry about?
Another day, another swoop,
I'll have to walk a wider loop,
And find a stop that's not near him,
(the longer walk might help me slim).
Along that road I walk in fright,
My eyes are dating left and right,
I jump at any birdie sound,
There's laughs and songs from all around.
It may be dumb to fret so much,
The bird has never made a touch,
The wings so near are startling, though,
I can't wait for that bird to go!
Friday, 6 August 2010
Incident
I don't know quite the hist'ry,
Of how it all began,
The details are a myst'ry,
About a funny man.
Perhaps I got the details wrong,
Maybe it was a broad,
Well either way, it wasn't long,
Before they found the fraud.
Or then again, that wasn't it,
You know, I don't recall,
And now I think a little bit,
That wasn't it at all.
To tell the truth, nothing occurred,
There wasn't any fuss,
There's nothing in the stuff you heard,
It didn't happen thus.
Of how it all began,
The details are a myst'ry,
About a funny man.
Perhaps I got the details wrong,
Maybe it was a broad,
Well either way, it wasn't long,
Before they found the fraud.
Or then again, that wasn't it,
You know, I don't recall,
And now I think a little bit,
That wasn't it at all.
To tell the truth, nothing occurred,
There wasn't any fuss,
There's nothing in the stuff you heard,
It didn't happen thus.
Friday, 16 July 2010
Animals
Monkeys are such funny creatures,
Animals with Human Features,
Eat bananas every day,
Little rest and lots of play.
Other animals are wierdo's too,
We only need to check the zoo,
A tiger: orange, fairly bright,
Yet stripes that hide him in the light.
The penguins like the weather cool,
Yet spend their days around the pool,
And in the cold they'll swim and fish,
To serve up tea or some old dish.
An Emu, tall, long neck and legs,
Yet balanced on those long thin pegs,
A mop that waddles here and there,
Around place without a care.
Koalas are quite lazy sods,
Stuffed full of plenty Gum-Leaf wads,
Hanging strongly to the trunk,
The Eucalypt has made them drunk.
An otter: playful, lazy so it seems,
She lies back, floating up the streams,
A sudden dive to look for treats,
Then back to all the lazy beats.
And then there's bats, such strange old things,
Like hamsters who have found some wings,
The wrong way up they find some rest,
The roof of caves would seem the best.
There goes a mouse, a little pest,
He's out to find the food that's best,
A startled dart - there goes a cat,
We're out of there - 2 seconds flat!
And others, too, their also strange,
A rooster, possum.... such a range,
All have evolved for different things,
With beaks, and claws and sometimes wings.
Animals with Human Features,
Eat bananas every day,
Little rest and lots of play.
Other animals are wierdo's too,
We only need to check the zoo,
A tiger: orange, fairly bright,
Yet stripes that hide him in the light.
The penguins like the weather cool,
Yet spend their days around the pool,
And in the cold they'll swim and fish,
To serve up tea or some old dish.
An Emu, tall, long neck and legs,
Yet balanced on those long thin pegs,
A mop that waddles here and there,
Around place without a care.
Koalas are quite lazy sods,
Stuffed full of plenty Gum-Leaf wads,
Hanging strongly to the trunk,
The Eucalypt has made them drunk.
An otter: playful, lazy so it seems,
She lies back, floating up the streams,
A sudden dive to look for treats,
Then back to all the lazy beats.
And then there's bats, such strange old things,
Like hamsters who have found some wings,
The wrong way up they find some rest,
The roof of caves would seem the best.
There goes a mouse, a little pest,
He's out to find the food that's best,
A startled dart - there goes a cat,
We're out of there - 2 seconds flat!
And others, too, their also strange,
A rooster, possum.... such a range,
All have evolved for different things,
With beaks, and claws and sometimes wings.
Friday, 2 July 2010
Eating, Computing
Spam,
Open Source,
Byte
or is it:
Spam,
Open Sauce,
Bite!
Take a break, clear you Desktop:
Cookies, Easter Eggs and Java.
Cables for Cereal with blackberries,
and cores inside.
Hash, washed down with TAB.
Have a carat, with the letters...
Good for the colon.
What to say, it's all a dog's breakfast!
Open Source,
Byte
or is it:
Spam,
Open Sauce,
Bite!
Take a break, clear you Desktop:
Cookies, Easter Eggs and Java.
Cables for Cereal with blackberries,
and cores inside.
Hash, washed down with TAB.
Have a carat, with the letters...
Good for the colon.
What to say, it's all a dog's breakfast!
Monday, 28 June 2010
Evil Cold
Sorry to do another 'It's cold' one, but it is....
All rugged up, I leave home into the dark coldness - cold but not horrible.
Jacket, beanie and scarf warm my torso, but my thin pants brush against goosebumps.
Ice crystals cover everything, making even the letterbox look cold.
The clear sky opens, almost forgetfully allowing the cold to settle on the earth.
With each step, the grass beside my path shimmers and sparkles.
Cars look like convertibles with white roofs, and translucent windows.
Smokers brave the cold, and as I look around, most of the houses smoke too.
I guess how far cars have driven by the layers of ice still covering them.
Off the path toward the road, and the slippery grass crunches softly underfoot.
The normal early plane overhead is missing - perhaps delayed by ice.
A hint of warmth in the light appearing in the east, when will it arrive?
Much fewer walkers than normal, no dogs today, but rugged up fitness fanatics.
An itch on the back of my neck is inaccessible through my scarf.
My pocket turns to ice in the brief moment I remove my hand.
Reaching the bus stop means standing still, and the cold hits harder.
Joints numbing, freezing now that movement has ceased.
The sound of an engine in the distance has all of us at the stop glancing up the road eagerly.
Finally the bus, and we huddle aboard into the warmth.
The sky brightens, and coupled with the heater on the bus gives the sense that a warm day comes!
But still I'm greeted with a blast of cold as I alight in the city, the warmth all an illusion.
All rugged up, I leave home into the dark coldness - cold but not horrible.
Jacket, beanie and scarf warm my torso, but my thin pants brush against goosebumps.
Ice crystals cover everything, making even the letterbox look cold.
The clear sky opens, almost forgetfully allowing the cold to settle on the earth.
With each step, the grass beside my path shimmers and sparkles.
Cars look like convertibles with white roofs, and translucent windows.
Smokers brave the cold, and as I look around, most of the houses smoke too.
I guess how far cars have driven by the layers of ice still covering them.
Off the path toward the road, and the slippery grass crunches softly underfoot.
The normal early plane overhead is missing - perhaps delayed by ice.
A hint of warmth in the light appearing in the east, when will it arrive?
Much fewer walkers than normal, no dogs today, but rugged up fitness fanatics.
An itch on the back of my neck is inaccessible through my scarf.
My pocket turns to ice in the brief moment I remove my hand.
Reaching the bus stop means standing still, and the cold hits harder.
Joints numbing, freezing now that movement has ceased.
The sound of an engine in the distance has all of us at the stop glancing up the road eagerly.
Finally the bus, and we huddle aboard into the warmth.
The sky brightens, and coupled with the heater on the bus gives the sense that a warm day comes!
But still I'm greeted with a blast of cold as I alight in the city, the warmth all an illusion.
Wednesday, 23 June 2010
Nightime Release
A late night (or an early start),
Long time before Sparrow's Fart,
At work, All dark, and all alone,
Patiently waiting for the phone.
At half past two, it finally rings,
And interrupts my thoughts and things,
The games afoot, we have begun,
And now at last, these things get done.
All over now, we wait once more,
The testers try, they must make sure,
that all has been deployed to plan,
And everything that should have, ran.
It's almost six, barely awake,
I sit and wait for morn' to break,
Real processing will start to run,
And then, at last!! I shall be done!!
Long time before Sparrow's Fart,
At work, All dark, and all alone,
Patiently waiting for the phone.
At half past two, it finally rings,
And interrupts my thoughts and things,
The games afoot, we have begun,
And now at last, these things get done.
All over now, we wait once more,
The testers try, they must make sure,
that all has been deployed to plan,
And everything that should have, ran.
It's almost six, barely awake,
I sit and wait for morn' to break,
Real processing will start to run,
And then, at last!! I shall be done!!
Wednesday, 9 June 2010
Working Winter
The cat sits on my lap, as I waste time at the computer,
Facebook, blogspot, email and other odds and ends,
Off to work soon, but first a little sanity,
Then out into the cold darkness of the morning.
Marching in place at the bus stop for a little warmth,
Clouds erupt with each breath, dissolving into the darkness,
A lonely plane makes its way across the lightening sky,
The drone of the bus approaches, and at the bus stop we form a haphazard line.
The ticket machine reluctantly accepts our tickets,
Too early, too cold even for computers,
The bus drivers warm greeting briefly takes and edge off the cold,
The old bus rattles off, looking to save more people from the cold.
Through the foggy windows we see the surroundings lighten,
As we traverse suburbia, street lights gradually disappear,
Replaced by a warm looking glow from the sun,
But when the doors open we feel that the look is just a deception.
The bus slows for roadworks, as the city skyline comes into view,
Other Motorists zoom by - ignoring the warnings to slow past the works,
Nearing our destination, we see increasing signs of a city waking to life,
While cleaners and newspaper deliveries farewell the last signs of night.
Alighting from the bus, I am reminded that it is still winter,
Frosty cold starts to seep in, starting at the toes,
A hot air balloon rises, and disappears towards where we came,
Mainly buses and street sweepers fight for position on the road.
Entering work, instant warmth greets me, and the outside cold is forgotten,
yet removing my scarf, I am reminded that this warm is superficial,
A heater under my desk thaws my frozen toes,
The darkness of the window reminds me that winter days aren't so bright.
Facebook, blogspot, email and other odds and ends,
Off to work soon, but first a little sanity,
Then out into the cold darkness of the morning.
Marching in place at the bus stop for a little warmth,
Clouds erupt with each breath, dissolving into the darkness,
A lonely plane makes its way across the lightening sky,
The drone of the bus approaches, and at the bus stop we form a haphazard line.
The ticket machine reluctantly accepts our tickets,
Too early, too cold even for computers,
The bus drivers warm greeting briefly takes and edge off the cold,
The old bus rattles off, looking to save more people from the cold.
Through the foggy windows we see the surroundings lighten,
As we traverse suburbia, street lights gradually disappear,
Replaced by a warm looking glow from the sun,
But when the doors open we feel that the look is just a deception.
The bus slows for roadworks, as the city skyline comes into view,
Other Motorists zoom by - ignoring the warnings to slow past the works,
Nearing our destination, we see increasing signs of a city waking to life,
While cleaners and newspaper deliveries farewell the last signs of night.
Alighting from the bus, I am reminded that it is still winter,
Frosty cold starts to seep in, starting at the toes,
A hot air balloon rises, and disappears towards where we came,
Mainly buses and street sweepers fight for position on the road.
Entering work, instant warmth greets me, and the outside cold is forgotten,
yet removing my scarf, I am reminded that this warm is superficial,
A heater under my desk thaws my frozen toes,
The darkness of the window reminds me that winter days aren't so bright.
Monday, 7 June 2010
The Week
Monday gone,
Four more days,
Then weekend.
Tuesday slows,
the working week,
boredom comes.
Wednesday hump,
Downhill from here,
Sick of work.
Thursday, wow!
This week is flying,
Nearly done.
Friday's here!!!
Lunchtime some beers,
Home at last!
Saturday flies,
shopping and stuff,
Restocked fridge.
Sunday, no!!!
Weekend nears end,
Work beckons.
Monday's back,
No rest for wicked,
far too soon
Four more days,
Then weekend.
Tuesday slows,
the working week,
boredom comes.
Wednesday hump,
Downhill from here,
Sick of work.
Thursday, wow!
This week is flying,
Nearly done.
Friday's here!!!
Lunchtime some beers,
Home at last!
Saturday flies,
shopping and stuff,
Restocked fridge.
Sunday, no!!!
Weekend nears end,
Work beckons.
Monday's back,
No rest for wicked,
far too soon
Sunday, 6 June 2010
Football
It's gone...or is it?
we're now 4 and 7 - not the best stat,
But I guess preseason we weren't ranked?
we could still make the final eight.
And irrespecitve, we look quite good.
Ordinary sides still flog us sometimes,
but only one good side has flogged us,
Even sides that beat them are scared of them,
They shouldn't lose too many games.
We'll lose some more, but it's not all bad,
some of our young-fellas look good.
This year is gone, perhaps the next,
but mark my words (I wouldn't jest),
I think our future looks quite bright.
I'd love to say 'next year',
but perhaps not quite.
Two or three might be a guess.....
46 years between grand finals is far too long....
we're now 4 and 7 - not the best stat,
But I guess preseason we weren't ranked?
we could still make the final eight.
And irrespecitve, we look quite good.
Ordinary sides still flog us sometimes,
but only one good side has flogged us,
Even sides that beat them are scared of them,
They shouldn't lose too many games.
We'll lose some more, but it's not all bad,
some of our young-fellas look good.
This year is gone, perhaps the next,
but mark my words (I wouldn't jest),
I think our future looks quite bright.
I'd love to say 'next year',
but perhaps not quite.
Two or three might be a guess.....
46 years between grand finals is far too long....
Saturday, 5 June 2010
Football
I love my team, I hope they win,
I'll Wait for the game to begin,
We had no chance at start of year,
yet these young blokes must have no fear.
They might be twelfth, it may be true,
But there's still more that they could do,
In fact I heard the experts say,
They might be in the 'eight' today.
This year there's not much in the teams,
And any side can win, it seems,
We're 4 and 6 with 10 rounds gone,
The season's not yet halfway done.
Although there's plenty in the season yet,
The toughest sides, we've probably met,
Ironically the games we've failed,
we played the sides we should've nailed.
at ten past two the siren roars,
And then we focus on the scores,
The rain pours at the M.C.G.
but can we win? I guess we'll see...
I'll Wait for the game to begin,
We had no chance at start of year,
yet these young blokes must have no fear.
They might be twelfth, it may be true,
But there's still more that they could do,
In fact I heard the experts say,
They might be in the 'eight' today.
This year there's not much in the teams,
And any side can win, it seems,
We're 4 and 6 with 10 rounds gone,
The season's not yet halfway done.
Although there's plenty in the season yet,
The toughest sides, we've probably met,
Ironically the games we've failed,
we played the sides we should've nailed.
at ten past two the siren roars,
And then we focus on the scores,
The rain pours at the M.C.G.
but can we win? I guess we'll see...
Friday, 28 May 2010
Weekend
Another day, last time this week,
And then my week will hit it's peak,
I hope I can do half a day,
Without big drama...Then it's play!!
And once back home I'll have an ale,
I'll surf the 'net, and drink that pale,
When evening comes, the footy's on,
And after that, my Friday's gone.
On Saturday, I'll stay in bed,
Not all the day, it must be said,
A later start, then off I go,
Off to the shops, rain hail or snow.
That afternoon, another game,
More AFL, more of the same,
A quiet beer, a blog or two,
Before too long, that day is through.
Sunday sees a lazy start,
No getting up at Sparrow's fart,
The time goes quick, it's afternoon,
The dread of work takes over soon.
It's strange to think the time I wait,
To see the weekend as though it's great,
Yet when it comes, I don't do much,
just watch TV, or something such.
And then my week will hit it's peak,
I hope I can do half a day,
Without big drama...Then it's play!!
And once back home I'll have an ale,
I'll surf the 'net, and drink that pale,
When evening comes, the footy's on,
And after that, my Friday's gone.
On Saturday, I'll stay in bed,
Not all the day, it must be said,
A later start, then off I go,
Off to the shops, rain hail or snow.
That afternoon, another game,
More AFL, more of the same,
A quiet beer, a blog or two,
Before too long, that day is through.
Sunday sees a lazy start,
No getting up at Sparrow's fart,
The time goes quick, it's afternoon,
The dread of work takes over soon.
It's strange to think the time I wait,
To see the weekend as though it's great,
Yet when it comes, I don't do much,
just watch TV, or something such.
Monday, 17 May 2010
Eternity
Waiting for retirement,
Waiting to pay off a house,
Waiting for decades.
Waiting to be an adult,
Waiting to drive,
Waiting for lustra.
Waiting to graduate,
Waiting for World Cups,
Waiting for years.
Waiting to give birth,
Waiting for Christmas,
Waiting for months.
Waiting for birthdays,
Waiting for a new football season,
Waiting for weeks.
Waiting for Recruiters,
Waiting for Loan Approvals,
Waiting for Days.
Waiting to finish work,
Waiting for TV programs,
Waiting for hours.
Waiting for buses,
Waiting for the final siren,
Waiting for minutes.
Waiting for lights to change,
Waiting to be served,
Waiting for seconds.
Yet no matter how long,
they all seem to take forever.
Waiting to pay off a house,
Waiting for decades.
Waiting to be an adult,
Waiting to drive,
Waiting for lustra.
Waiting to graduate,
Waiting for World Cups,
Waiting for years.
Waiting to give birth,
Waiting for Christmas,
Waiting for months.
Waiting for birthdays,
Waiting for a new football season,
Waiting for weeks.
Waiting for Recruiters,
Waiting for Loan Approvals,
Waiting for Days.
Waiting to finish work,
Waiting for TV programs,
Waiting for hours.
Waiting for buses,
Waiting for the final siren,
Waiting for minutes.
Waiting for lights to change,
Waiting to be served,
Waiting for seconds.
Yet no matter how long,
they all seem to take forever.
Tuesday, 4 May 2010
What to do
Boredom strikes,
What to do?
Stolen bikes,
What to do?
Money lost,
What to do?
Excessive cost,
What to do?
Too much rent,
What to do?
Wages spent,
What to do?
All the time,
What to do?
Need a dime,
What to do?
Here's a con,
What to do?
Life goes on,
What to do?
What to do?
Stolen bikes,
What to do?
Money lost,
What to do?
Excessive cost,
What to do?
Too much rent,
What to do?
Wages spent,
What to do?
All the time,
What to do?
Need a dime,
What to do?
Here's a con,
What to do?
Life goes on,
What to do?
Friday, 30 April 2010
Beers
Home from work, and there's 24 beers,
Open the first, there's 23, Cheers!
And not too long after, we've got 22,
I've waited all week to enjoy such a brew.
21 left, and it's not even six,
We're down to 20, I'm getting my kicks!
Then it's 19, and it's starting to slow,
On the next one I wonder where'd that six pack go?
When we hit 17, I have slowed and I think,
If I keep up this rate, I will run out of drink!
By 16 it's dark and the footy's begun,
A slight increase in pace, as a quarter takes 1!
By 14 the football is stalled at half time,
and at 13 my ears ring, an inaudible chime!
Off to bed now, I can't keep my eyelids awake,
And for several hours I'll have a small break!
By 2 the next day, and we've started again,
soon we're down to 11 and clouding my brain!
Then 10, 9 and 8, they are going too fast,
At this rate I doubt that they're going to last!
Then senses prevail, and we call it night,
To drink on your own just doesn't seem right.
But on Sunday we start and the count is now 7,
With 6 left I must say, I feel I'm in heaven.
A twinge of regret now, the last six-packs open,
We're down to five, they'll last, well here's hopin'
Another one sinks, and we only have 4,
Now it's 3 I start thinking, should I go get more?
I don't dare hit the road, so the count is now 2,
And I've slowed to make sure that they'll last the night through.
Before long, however, we're down to just one,
Then I've had that one too, and the carton is done!
Open the first, there's 23, Cheers!
And not too long after, we've got 22,
I've waited all week to enjoy such a brew.
21 left, and it's not even six,
We're down to 20, I'm getting my kicks!
Then it's 19, and it's starting to slow,
On the next one I wonder where'd that six pack go?
When we hit 17, I have slowed and I think,
If I keep up this rate, I will run out of drink!
By 16 it's dark and the footy's begun,
A slight increase in pace, as a quarter takes 1!
By 14 the football is stalled at half time,
and at 13 my ears ring, an inaudible chime!
Off to bed now, I can't keep my eyelids awake,
And for several hours I'll have a small break!
By 2 the next day, and we've started again,
soon we're down to 11 and clouding my brain!
Then 10, 9 and 8, they are going too fast,
At this rate I doubt that they're going to last!
Then senses prevail, and we call it night,
To drink on your own just doesn't seem right.
But on Sunday we start and the count is now 7,
With 6 left I must say, I feel I'm in heaven.
A twinge of regret now, the last six-packs open,
We're down to five, they'll last, well here's hopin'
Another one sinks, and we only have 4,
Now it's 3 I start thinking, should I go get more?
I don't dare hit the road, so the count is now 2,
And I've slowed to make sure that they'll last the night through.
Before long, however, we're down to just one,
Then I've had that one too, and the carton is done!
Thursday, 29 April 2010
Wednesday, 28 April 2010
Flying
Arrive on time,
Check in,
We wait now!
Watch the planes,
that ones ours,
Almost ready!
A voice sounds out,
Someone's boarding,
Is it us?
Again they call,
Another flight,
Joe Blogg's has missed.
And finally,
Flight 612,
Ready to board.
A sudden rush,
Must get on first,
Why not wait?
Stopped in the aisle,
Blocking everyone,
To load carry-on.
At last, we leave,
The usual drill,
Seatbelts tight!!
Roll into the air,
Sinking gut,
Goodbye ground.
Levelling off,
A meal is served,
But drinks will cost!
Descent begins,
Seatbelts again,
Below approaches.
Shaking plane,
Turbulent air,
See white knuckles!
A gentle Bump,
The nose comes down,
We're safely down.
So taxi now,
Mobiles back on,
The rush begins.
The aisles are full,
They stand and wait,
for open doors.
Despite the push,
To be first off,
Where is their luggage?
A holiday,
Too few days,
Then do it all again!!
Check in,
We wait now!
Watch the planes,
that ones ours,
Almost ready!
A voice sounds out,
Someone's boarding,
Is it us?
Again they call,
Another flight,
Joe Blogg's has missed.
And finally,
Flight 612,
Ready to board.
A sudden rush,
Must get on first,
Why not wait?
Stopped in the aisle,
Blocking everyone,
To load carry-on.
At last, we leave,
The usual drill,
Seatbelts tight!!
Roll into the air,
Sinking gut,
Goodbye ground.
Levelling off,
A meal is served,
But drinks will cost!
Descent begins,
Seatbelts again,
Below approaches.
Shaking plane,
Turbulent air,
See white knuckles!
A gentle Bump,
The nose comes down,
We're safely down.
So taxi now,
Mobiles back on,
The rush begins.
The aisles are full,
They stand and wait,
for open doors.
Despite the push,
To be first off,
Where is their luggage?
A holiday,
Too few days,
Then do it all again!!
Tuesday, 20 April 2010
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