So here we sit in JFK
Trying to while the hours away
Trying not to eat the stuff
That makes me fat - and that is rough
Trying to be alert and gay
Wishing boredom would go away
The airport lounge is dull as hell
A good book they do not sell
But count your blessings I was taught
So thank the lord and pass the port
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Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness
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*Many of us will already know this poem TO AUTUMN by John Keats. It is a
celebration of autumn when the mists descend and the land is swelling with
over-ri...
2 days ago
3 comments:
You have all those grandchildren and even a couple of great grandchildren, and you are still coy about divulging your age? That is hardly a full profile but, hey, it is your lady's privilege.
You really ought to ditch the port and get into the whisky, scotch, that is. ;-)
Hi stinking billy, I am young enough to remember the blitz and I personally know the drummer in your favourite band! More than that I will not say.
Lordy, lordy - poetry. She's finally flipped.
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