There was a young Communist named Neil
Who started the revolution’s wheel.
It whirled round and round
And to the ground
It pinned that revolutionary Neil
There was a young Communist named Neil
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Monthly Archives: September 2017
A life of Servitude?
As a guide dog owner for some 30 years, I was interested to come across this article, “Service Animals: A ‘Chosen’ Career Path or a Life of Servitude?”, by Joy Thomas, a teacher and guide dog owner, https://www.crixeo.com/service-animals/.
In her article, Thomas examines the views of those who maintain that the use of service animals (such as guide dogs) is cruel, and contrasts them with others (including scientists and those who train service animals).
The latter group are of the opinion that most service animals enjoy their work and that the bond between a working animal and it’s handler/owner is sometimes stronger than the connection people have with their pet dog.
I have on occasions been asked whether my guide dog, Trigger gets bored. My answer is that he is with me 24 hours a day (not always in the same room but within easy call). Dogs are pack animals and crave companionship.
Being with me is, for Trigger an essential component of his security. Unlike many pet dogs he is not left alone for protracted periods during the day but accompanies me to the office, the supermarket and my favourite watering holes!
He is constantly stimulated, which enhances his wellbeing.
It is (usually) dogs that languish at home, for long periods (not working/service animals) that suffer from bordom/lonleness.
Any Port
“Good morning stranger, I know you well”.
They greet
Under well worn sheet.
“There is no spell
To hold you here
Tis simply the sprinkle,
The familiar tinkle
Of worldly dust
That has thrust
We two together.
In stormy weather
Ships seek any port.
On a wave of need caught
They chance their luck
And sometimes buck”.
Model
There was a young man named Hogg
There was a young man named Hogg
Who decided to start a blog.
He soon got bored
And remarked “oh lord,
I shall give this blog to my dog!”
A confusion
A confusion about socks.
A delusion over his and her’s.
“Mine” she said
As she sat upon his bed.
It is an easy mistake
To make,
To take
Something that you should not possess,
Be it an item of dress
Or a smile
Bought for a little while.
There was a man who suffered from introspection
There was a man who suffered from introspection,
Which frequently led to dejection.
A surrealist, called Mark
Said “your future is dark,
As you are a mere computer projection”!
A burned child dreads the fire
A burned child dreads the fire,
They say,
But, as day follows day,
We see that he
Grasps the hot coal
To his soul,
Again and again,
Despite the pain.
The coal burns
And the child turns
Away,
(Perhaps for a day)
Or so.
Yet back he will go,
To that place I know,
Truth to tell,
All too well.
There was a young man named Jones
There was a young man named Jones
Who’s habit it was to throw stones.
He lived in a glass house,
Along with his spouse.
That unfortunate young man named jones!
Zero
In search of nothing
We bring
The world crashing down around our ears.
All our self-made fears
Come to fruition,
For those who seek for pedition
Come face-to-face with a zero
In their own fractured glass.
K Morris - Poet 