My last 2 posts are a bit out of time. Hayley, Ben, myself and 370 others have just come back from Crossword (end of year youth camp for our gang here in CT). It was a generally good time - I gave 5 talks, Ray Galea gave 10. I thought rather than a dry post I would try and massage some life into it with some Sylvia Plath style poetry (not sure why, becuase I hate Sylvia Plath);
A gathering in anticipation
of leaders
and chops to braai
but with the fellowshiops comes
intestinal bugs.
And a toliet paper crisis.
Between sickness and
shocking food
I ate good food elsewhere.
Don't merely listen and not do
is what I mouthed,
but am I all talk?
Ray is a man I would
love
to be like
But times were good
The Lord sought out ten .
All else was a footnote.
Scott
Saturday, December 17
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2 comments:
Oh my goodness!!!!
You are the post master.
I live in shame.....
you better bring that razor to the great southern land.
ct
love the poem there scott!
If i dont find internet access again before hand, mery christmas to you and your little fam :)
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