When the pen takes control.

I can imagine a French peasant while pushing his barrow

singing songs that were made famous by, “the little sparrow.”

In my day every young boy’s dream

was to ride on a train that was powered by steam

imagining how the driver must feel

as he stood in control of that monster of steel

but now I’m content to just stand and admire

these giant engines through their smoke and fire

still cherished and polished by a faithful few

whose childhood dreams have all now come true

John Garlyck Llewelyn Paulson

is a name now seldom used

but in the early Seventies

was frequently heard in the news

while famous in the world of design

as a fine architect he couldn’t fail

but in the end he was forced to resign

after a short period spent in jail

For as we stood gazing across the bay

truly my breath was snatched away

appearing into this tranquil scene

upon the sea surface was a submarine

yet so like no other craft I’d seen

this was some castle from a dream,

of conning tower, not one but two

to give the Captain all round view

and while these boats are black as night

this one was painted all over white

and while I watched from on the shore

she slipped beneath the waves once more.

Old oak tree, oh old oak tree

I think of the joys

you have given to me

when you give me shade

if the weather is hot

and you give me shelter

when it is not

and I know in the future

when I’m not around

you will still stand sentinel

with your roots in the ground

but if in my lifetime

you should take your last breath

your memory will linger

even after your death.