On Saturday morning I got a couple of text messages from my mobile phone company about card payments. I had to urgently deal with some of the administrative aftermath of cancelling all my cards.
I hate being late to things, but on Saturday, after waiting to talk to the mobile phone company, I was.
I did manage to come up with this: it's the last bit of Tennyson's Ulysses, but reworked for being late, rather than being old.
Tho' much is missed much still waits and tho'
we are not now those men which in old days
turned up on time, that which we are we are;
One equal temper of the punctual folk,
Made late by time and fate, but strong in haste
To rush, to come, to go, and not to loaf.
turned up on time, that which we are we are;
One equal temper of the punctual folk,
Made late by time and fate, but strong in haste
To rush, to come, to go, and not to loaf.
Richard "hungry heart" B
No comments:
Post a Comment