Ode to the Avatar

Letty, love, you are the very best medicine.

Avatar, Avatar where have you been
I've been to London to look at the Queen
Avatar, Avatar what did you there
I frightened a little poster under a chair

They're changing Avatar at Able2know -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
Alice is marrying one of the posters
"A poster's life is terrible hard,"
Says Alice.

John Oak, I'm beginning to believe that you're the poster child for Bonnie Prince Charlie.

Ode to the poster child:

There you sit looking quite innocent and mild,
A silent and sad-lookin' Brit of the isle.
It's these kinds of things that pluck at our hearts.
No, money from me lad,
Was Diane with child?

And brat that you are,
Prince Charles of the palace,
The BBC haunts you
But Mum has no malice.

oak, How do you like my London avatar?

CI ---- very niffty. our very own eye in the sky


letty, please don't lay Chucks malajusted head on my table. There' hardly enough room for my own

Have not seen the news today, oh boy
But in 30 minutes I'll watch "News at Ten"
And now the police will quiz Prince Chas
Nobody is really sure
If he's completely off his chump...

He'd love to
turn
you
off

Ode to turning off:

We turn off radios, TV's and such,
And even minds, when it gets too much.
But we can never turn off the space,
Of love and music and beauty and grace.

Letty I like you
I like you a lot
Happy when I'm blue
Cool when I'm hot

Though hot is not
What I get a lot
These days
Letty's ways
Are the ways of wisdom
That's what is dem

McTag of the far away isle,
Your kind words reflect your style.
Let's keep building bridges
Smooth out all the ridges,
And engineer dams that
Defy all earthquakes,
No cracks or mistakes,
As lasting as the Sphinx of the Nile.

Hey, Brit. I feel like breaking all the rules today.

Break 'em Letty, we're waiting!

Av a tar, la, come and av a tar
Drunken sots come to these spots
And long to av a tar!
So be gay and don't pay
"E's bound to 'ave his way
Av a TAR, av a tar.

I'm in a port, you understand; and I've had a gin or 2.

Clary's butterfly's wings are aglow
And I notice it's wings keep aflippin'
Is it gin with tonic ,or maybe sloe
That our lady in Hong Kong is tipplin'?

Whichever, have one on me.

Will do - later - too early at 9 30 a m!

Raggedy pup, raggedy pup,
Can't put it down now it's picked up,
Constantly pattering to greet your friend
Playing and playing, the days never end!

Had a nice day in the Pool yesterday
To Liverpool gastropubs I say "Okay!"
We met some dear friends and then went on a spree
From Toxteth to pub and then into the sea
The restaurant was great and we all ate too much
Of wild boar, and prawns, pan-fried buffalo, and such
And later we walked down the hill to the dock
The Albert Dock complex, and there was a shock
An amphibious vehicle, ex-WWII
A DUKW, not a duck from the zoo
So in it we climbed, and it drove us around
The sights of the city, visitors to astound
And then at the end it drove into the water
(My poor wife felt a bit like a lamb to the slaughter)
But we laughed, and it splashed on its watery walk
Through the Albert, and Salthouse, and Canning Half-Tide Dock
And heaved itself out up the ramp at the end
With many Liverpudlian quips from our friend
The driver, a Scouser who did like his job
(And tips from us folk meant a few extra bob)

And then we drove back by the M62
I hope this account was amusing to you.

Amusing, amazing, what a really great find!
Just what did the organizers have in their mind?
And how deep was the water, how high was the dock?
And was there just one Dukw or a socking great flock?
I wish you had photos of this jolly spree
That I could enjoy while I'm sipping my tea.

just reading with a smile of pure delight,
A few rules broken in the metaphor of night.
McTag, and Clary, and dear Aggie, too.

and all those who inspire anew
Even when they debate
Decide or err in face of fate

The avatar is simply this:
Another side of life's deep, deep abyss.

A sovereign wont get you very far
not these days it wont anyway
in the days of yore what is more
when the Old Queen was on the throne
with one whole Pound you could live like a king
take your girl to a picture show
a couple of drinks in the old pub
then a fish supper & bus fare home
and still leave enuff for the sunday paper.
Nowadays that One Pound is just enuff for a paper

John of England,

when I think of what a buck buys,
I find that gold is naught,
It's simply another translation,

Of what has our God wrought.

Your God, my God, and somewhere in between
a lovely unsought mean.

The golden ratio--