I REMEMBER
Posted: Sun Aug 04, 2013 8:20 pm
I REMEMBER
I can still remember the day I bowled a flipper,
perfect pitch outside leg and grabbed myself a wicket,
the batsman didn’t have a clue, the ball itself a ripper,
by far the best I ever bowled in years of backyard cricket.
Warnie would have marvelled at how I bowled that ball,
even I was most surprised, I must admit,
not to matter, that’s the day I felt really tall,
told the puzzled batsman it was time to split.
I can still remember Armstrong walking on the moon,
forty- four years ago in nineteen sixty-nine.
An historic moment, the whole world was in tune,
a feat at the time near impossible to define.
Now they’re well-nigh commonplace, expeditions into space
that hardly rate as stories on page one,
gone are the days when into space was classed a race
commercial ticket sales have just begun.
I remember history made in Nineteen Eighty-Three
when Australia II won the America’s Cup,
from the PM down, the nation partied, filled with glee,
New York Yacht Club’s stranglehold on the cup was up.
The winged keel on the boat was revolutionary and started
much questioning and whingeing by the Yanks.
The yacht was judged as legal though, opponents were outsmarted
when the Aussies won the series, saying “Thanks”.
Yes, memory is priceless, as meaningful as senses
such as hearing, sight, taste and smell and touch,
the camera of the mind taking snap shots without lenses
a faculty of which one can never have too much.
Now and then what I remember hinges on selective,
for instance, remembering someone’s name.
Five minutes after meeting, the memory’s ineffective
their moniker will not fall in the frame.
Another prime example of memory gone astray
is one I think that I’m not on my own,
where did I leave my glasses, remembrance in replay
though, hiding place most often unbeknown.
Yet, despite small aberrations, my memory is intact,
I know my name, birth date and address,
certain anniversaries may perhaps be inexact
but then, most things are sitting right, God bless.
Jeff Thorpe 20 June 2013 ©
I can still remember the day I bowled a flipper,
perfect pitch outside leg and grabbed myself a wicket,
the batsman didn’t have a clue, the ball itself a ripper,
by far the best I ever bowled in years of backyard cricket.
Warnie would have marvelled at how I bowled that ball,
even I was most surprised, I must admit,
not to matter, that’s the day I felt really tall,
told the puzzled batsman it was time to split.
I can still remember Armstrong walking on the moon,
forty- four years ago in nineteen sixty-nine.
An historic moment, the whole world was in tune,
a feat at the time near impossible to define.
Now they’re well-nigh commonplace, expeditions into space
that hardly rate as stories on page one,
gone are the days when into space was classed a race
commercial ticket sales have just begun.
I remember history made in Nineteen Eighty-Three
when Australia II won the America’s Cup,
from the PM down, the nation partied, filled with glee,
New York Yacht Club’s stranglehold on the cup was up.
The winged keel on the boat was revolutionary and started
much questioning and whingeing by the Yanks.
The yacht was judged as legal though, opponents were outsmarted
when the Aussies won the series, saying “Thanks”.
Yes, memory is priceless, as meaningful as senses
such as hearing, sight, taste and smell and touch,
the camera of the mind taking snap shots without lenses
a faculty of which one can never have too much.
Now and then what I remember hinges on selective,
for instance, remembering someone’s name.
Five minutes after meeting, the memory’s ineffective
their moniker will not fall in the frame.
Another prime example of memory gone astray
is one I think that I’m not on my own,
where did I leave my glasses, remembrance in replay
though, hiding place most often unbeknown.
Yet, despite small aberrations, my memory is intact,
I know my name, birth date and address,
certain anniversaries may perhaps be inexact
but then, most things are sitting right, God bless.
Jeff Thorpe 20 June 2013 ©
Yes it's a funny old thing the memory hey Jeff? I was discussing the '56 flood with a mate of mine the other day, he couldn't believe I could remember it (We lived on the Murray then, well actually our house was IN the river!) Funny how we can't remember what happened yesterday but can remember nearly sixty years ago!