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Sunday, November 13, 2005

Morning folks. Before we get to today's poem I'd like to tell you of what I plan to do on this page over the next few days. Because there are so many new readers lately that have yet to meet the real me, I'm going to provide links to some of the posts from my previous site, Over The Road. Some truckin' stories, some funny stories, but mainly stories that provide a look at who I am and how I got here. I beg patience from my older, faithful, readers, but the new guys deserve a look at my past. Hell, I'm going to read them, might learn something! And now, our regular Sunday guest, Mr. Robert Service:


Young man, gather gold and gear,
They will wear you well;
You can thumb your nose at fear,
Wish the horde in hell.
With the haughty you can be
Insolent and bold:
Young man, if you would be free,
Gather gear and gold.

Mellow man of middle age,
Buy a little farm;
Then let revolution rage,
You will take no harm.
Cold and hunger, hand in hand,
May red ruin spread;
With your little bit of land
You'll be warm and fed.

Old man, seek the smiling sun,
Wall yourself away;
Dream aloof from everyone
In a garden gay.
Let no grieving mar your mood,
Have no truck with tears;
Greet each day with gratitude-
Glean a hundred years.

See you tomorrow folks.

Trucker Bob Image hosting by Photobucket blogged at 3:56 AM

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