Wednesday, 14 August 2019
Sunday, 11 August 2019
Then the purple car beguiling, our countenance was surely smiling,
And the folk were all a grinning, in their Sunday best they wore,
They cheered the Moke, and our hearts were woke,
As children ran to the missing door,
They slapped our hands and cheered some more,
~ And our hearts were lifted, Evermore!
Richard uttered, stillness broken, his words of hunger then were spoken,
"My stomach aches for a weird and wonderful store!"
We urged the Moke to take us faster, risking temporal disaster,
And swiftly into the town of Eton we bore,
Cried Richard to the happy locals, "Serve me Lap Lap!" - and his belly the burden bore,
~ 'Tis OK and nothing more.
Again within our purple steed, we circled Efate without want or need,
And a sign we spotted, "Blue Lagoon" were the words it bore,
Ah, a chance to dash, and in the water splash,
Like the sprites and pixies of ancient yore,
Where so many had gone before,
~ We swam, and laughed, and nothing more.
I quickly joined my traveling folk, and piled within the purple Moke,
Which thrilled me, filled me, with fantastic terrors never felt before,
We drove to the sea, and saw it beating, the water pounding and repeating,
'Tis the power of Mother Nature, writing her message upon the shore,
Some cryptic missive upon the shore,
~ This it is and nothing more.
Once upon a morning isle, as I daydreamed, Vanuatu style,
While many friendly, open souls wandered down the shore,
As I pondered, wide and woke, suddenly there came a Moke,
And it was gently revving, revving at my v-birth door,
"Some mad machine ," I muttered, "revving at my v-birth door",
~ Only this and nothing more.