Poem was a real pick-me-up
I THOUGHT that it was going to be one of those horrid weeks when everything was going to go wrong; on Sunday a blocked drain, on Tuesday a light on the car failing and then one of those nice (but nasty to change) strip-lights under a kitchen cupboard. Much swearing goes into messing about with one of those. On Wednesday morning I had to give Oscar, my grandfather clock, a good talking-to as he had let his hour hand dangle again. Then on Wednesday afternoon came help in the form of The Herald.
It was just what was needed – (Poem of the Day, March 28) – The Great Stariski by Rab Wilson. What a wonderful pick-me-up it was. Soon I too was “lauchin’ oot lood” with “birls an pirouettes”. What did I care about the snags and snarls of life when I could stand on my hands and view the world from my own imaginary ‘A’ Frame?
Then reality struck on Thursday and I “brent ma parritch”.
Old Comrades Hall,