Today on the Self Help Radio blog (that's this place): a poem by little Georgie Snark, aged 7, sort of about tides:
There is no tide at the continental divide
Said the man to his bride
She thought he lied so she goodbyed
Though his eyes eventually dried he could not hide
His pride as he sighed
& looked on the bright side
With his future open wide
But his car did collide
With a tour guide in his stride
Though he could have made the auto slide
He took to long to decide
The victim was cast aside
& his safety was denied
The police asked the man why'd
He run the guide over & he replied
"I am like Jekyll & Hyde"
But the excuse he supplied was denied
& at the court where judges preside
It was implied that he would be tried
Where justice would be applied
But as if to deride
The criminal justice system's bona fides
He died.
As awful as that is, here's how I began this post before Georgie sent in his poem:
In conversation with a conservationist, I happened to overhear an overbearing person complaining about plain communication.
You dodged a bullet!
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