Winds blow heavy, stream swift, rocky ledge and weeds
Helmsman up, on rudder strong grip, boat speeds
Deftly skips the skipper, narrow stony wall
Slightest touch, boat `ll be smithereens all
Knit brows, salty sweat taste, captain holds firm
Rapid fall to slow plains, now his rest time
Friendly winds blow, he pulls out beauty sail
Puffs a content ring, relaxed, by the rail
Such is life’s current rest follow labour
God’s mercy wind takes you to safe harbour
If had worked your way down stream with ardour
Perhaps you `re born with grace in thy store
Beware, perfection to fall; many in lore
Lust and lucre: flee them to reach the shore
I'll put down the phone
Harassed executive to wife
Two, three, four, or one?
28/5/2002; 11.44 p.m.
Direct into computer
Direct into computer
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