Saturday, 22 March 2014

21st January 2011


Why should I stand on stage and sing
When others cannot talk
Or do the hundred-meter thing 
When others cannot walk
But in a wheelchair sit
With hands that cannot knit
Or even hold a piece of classroom chalk?
Hence, be silent, tongue of mine
And, feet of mine, be still
Till the waters of the Rhine
Stand up like a hill
Or till the phone next rings
And answer it I must
Or once again sprout wings
Whilst shaking off the dust
Of a good night's sleep
To start anew the day tomorrow always brings
Beginning with a beep, beep-beep, beep-beep,
As does a clock that sings
Or cock-a-doodle-doo's
In its own clock-like way,
Yes, cock-a-doodle-doo's
In its own clock-like way.


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