901

ISLANDS IN THE STREAM
By
Barry Gibb/Maurice Gibb/Robin Gibb

Baby when I met you there was peace unknown
I set out to get you with a fine tooth comb
I was soft inside
There was something going on
You do something to me that I can't explain
Hold me closer and I feel no pain
Every beat of my heart
We got something going on
Tender love is blind
It requires a dedication
All this love we feel needs no conversation
We can ride it together, ah ha
Making love with each other, ah ha

Islands in the stream
That is what we are
No one in between
How can we be wrong
Sail away with me
To another world
And we rely on each other, ah ha
From one lover to another, ah ha

I can't live without you if the love was gone
Everything is nothing when you got no one
And you walk in the night
Slowly losing sight of the real thing

But that won't happen to us and we got no doubt
Too deep in love and we got no way out
And the message is clear
This could be the year for the real thing

No more will you cry
Baby I will hurt you never
We start and end as one
In love forever
We can ride it together, ah ha
Making love with each other, ah ha

Islands in the stream
That is what we are
No one in between
How can we be wrong?
Sail away with me
To another world
And we rely on each other, ah ha
From one lover to another, ah ha

ISLAND IN THE MIRE
Gordon Brown - Hero or Clown?

When he named himself new PM, Gordon Brown,
The only way was up and so he took us down!
We were hanging here,
Not knowing what was going on.
Everything he did, he said, was all for us,
When we hooted, "Gordon, no! We have no trust!"
He whined, "Don't shoot me!
Tony Blair caused our decline.
"Everyone was blind
To the global situation,
The USA and Asia, the European nations,
Yet we can save it together, ooh hoo,
We can rough it together, aha.

"Island in the mire,
That is what we are,
Yet, we've British fire,
We can still go far,
You can move away
To a greener land
But it won't be like Blighty, oh ho,
No it won't be so mighty, oh ho

"I shall save the nation if I get your vote,
Be the cooler Captain on the Labour boat,
We can rule the waves,
Negotiate the financial oceans.

"Iraq, Iran, the warfare in Afghanistan
There's so many challenges, but I've a plan
That can save the world,
Generating extra growth, too!

"Me? Incompetent?
Never! I deny it!
I'll beat insolvency;
New wealth for you and me!
'Cos I'm the redeemer, ooh, hoo
Oh, I'm the redeemer, aha.

"Island in the mire,
That is what we are,
Yet, we've British fire,
We can still go far,
You can move away
To a greener land,
But it won't be like Blighty, oh ho,
No it won't be so mighty aha.
Oh it won't be old Blighty oh ho,
No it won't be so mighty aha.

902

TO THE FIRST ROBIN

Welcome, welcome, little stranger,
Fear no harm, and fear no danger;
We are glad to see you here,
For you sing "Sweet Spring is near."

Now the white snow melts away;
Now the flowers blossom gay:
Come dear bird and build your nest,
For we love our robin best.

TO THE ESTEEMED ROBIN

Days of worry, gloom or sorrow
Old winter's been and gone now.
So our worries we must spurn
When he with beady eye returns.

He comes to sing agreeably
A nobler, fatter redbreast, he!
Sweet comforting, affirming call:
Now life and love await us all.

903

Jack worked for the Post Office, and his job was to process all mail that had illegible addresses.

One day, a letter came addressed in shaky writing to God, but with no actual address. He thought he should open it to see what it was about. The letter read:

Dear God,
I am an eighty-three-year-old widow, living on a small pension.
Yesterday somebody stole my purse. It had one hundred pounds in it, which was all the money I had until my next pension payment. This Sunday, it's Christmas Day, and I have invited two friends over for dinner. Without that money, I have nothing to buy food with and no family to turn to. You are my only hope. Can you please help me?
Sincerely, Mabel Gibbs

The postal worker was touched. He showed the letter to all his co-workers, and each one quickly dug into his, or her, wallet and came up with a few pounds.

By the time Jack made the rounds, he'd collected ninety-eight pounds, which he put into an envelope and sent to the woman. The rest of the day, all the workers felt a big, warm glow thinking of Mabel and the dinner she'd be able to share with her friends.

Christmas came and went. A few days later, another letter came from Mabel to God. All the workers gathered around while Jack opened the letter.

It read:

Dear God,
I can't thank you enough for what you did for me! Because of your gift of love, I was able to cook a glorious dinner for my friends. We had a very nice day and I told my friends about your wonderful gift.
Sincerely, Mabel Gibbs.

PS: By the way, God, there was two-pounds missing. I think it might have been those bastards at the post office.

Three Labradors were sitting in the waiting room of the vet's when they struck up a conversation.

The black Labrador turned to the chocolate Labrador and said, 'So, why are you here?'

The brown Lab replied, 'I'm a pisser. I piss on everything...the sofa, the curtains, the cat, the kids. But the final straw was last night when I pissed in the middle of my owner's bed.'

'So, what is the vet going to do?' said the first Labrador.

'Gonna cut my nuts off, I'm afraid,' came the despondent reply. 'They reckon it may calm me down. I'm devastated!'

'Yeah, that is sad,' said the black Labrador then turned to the yellow one and asked, 'Why are you here?'

The yellow Lab said, 'I'm a digger. I dig under fences, I dig up flowers and trees too! I dig just for the hell of it. When I'm inside my house, I dig up the carpet! But I went way over the line last Friday when I dug an enormous hole in my owner's new settee.'

'So what are they gonna do to you?' the black Lab inquired.

'Looks like I'm losing my nuts too', sniffed the dejected dog.

'How mean!' woofed the yellow Labrador, then turned to the black one and asked, 'Why are you here?'

'I'm a humper,' the black Labrador said... 'I'd hump anything. I'll hump the cat, a pillow, a fluffy toy, the video, wooden fence-posts, whatever. I want to hump everything I see. Yesterday, my woman owner had just got out of the shower and was bending down to dry her toes, and I just could not help myself. I hopped onto her back and started hammering away'

The yellow and chocolate Labradors exchanged sad glances; one of them said... 'So, is it nuts off for you too?'

The black Lab said...'No, I'm here to get my nails clipped!!'

904

The Nest
Andrew Young

Four blue stones in this thrush's nest
I leave, content to make the best
Of turquoise, lapis lazuli
Or for that matter of the whole blue sky

Thrush

Note the thrush, often too brusque,
A zealous worker from morn to dusk,
Weaving a little estate in selfless style;
Then babies hatch out in one tufty pile.

905

Animal emoticons:

:]~~~~~~* Frog catching a fly

:@) Pig

:ŠP Pig with tongue sticking out

^(@@)^ Wise owl


:(|) Monkey

) Cheshire cat

,,,,,,,,,, Ants a-marching

}:-8 Bull

<"}}}><\ Fish

-------------<;)))>< Fish caught bait

I=8) Comic cow

>^..^< Cat

=^-.-^= Sleepy kitten

~~~~~~~~~8}= Snake with fangs

_@/. Snail coming right

<:3 )~~~~~ Mouse going left

{:8( Unhappy gorilla

0__/\__ Inchworm

906

GORDON IN TROUBLE

Based on THE RAILWAY SERIES by The Rev. W. Awdry

One morning, Thomas was being cleaned when Gordon arrived, covered in mud. "Hello, Gordon," said Thomas. "You need a wash."

"I don't have time," said Gordon. "Anyway, I'm not a fussy little engine like you." And he puffed away.

James was at the next station. He had just been cleaned. "Come on, Gordon," said his Driver. "Time for a wash. It'll make you feel better."

"Pah!" said Gordon, and he let off steam. Mud flew everywhere, and James was dirty again. "You are a naughty engine," said Gordon's Driver.

Gordon finished his journey and steamed into the Big Station. He was still covered in mud.

When the Fat Controller saw him, he was cross. "You can't pull the train like that! James will have to do it," he said.

At last, Gordon was getting a wash. He was so grubby that it took lots of men to clean him. "Mind my eyes," he moaned.

James was on his way to pull the Express. "Be careful," warned Gordon, "The hills are slippery."

The sea brings strong winds to the Island, so it makes it hard for the engines to climb Gordon's Hill. Today, there were wet leaves on the line as well.

As James came up to the Hill, he went faster and faster. "I can do it. I can do it," he puffed. But halfway up, he was not so sure.

His wheels began to slip on the leaves. "Help!" whistled James, as he started slipping back down the Hill.

Gordon saw everything. "I'm coming to help," he called. "I'll push from behind." Together, they reached the top, safe and sound.

When they arrived at the station, James asked the Fat Controller, "Please, Sir, can Gordon pull the coaches again now?"

"Only if you wash, Gordon, said the Fat Controller, firmly. "Thank you, Sir. I promise I will," smiled Gordon.

One day, a jowly fellow named Gordon "Glass-Eye" McHaggis awoke to find that he was Prime Minister.

So, Gordon had his yellow teeth fixed. As he beamed, he sold all the State gold reserves for ten shillings, and he raided pension funds to pay for the idle to sit on their backsides all day, and for everyone in the whole world to come and live high-on-the-hog in the "chavvy" ghettoes of Britain.

Schools deteriorated...hospitals were shut, although the N.H.S. was awash with "tsars" and managers.

The Fat Controller, Michael Martin, had to step down, for spending hundreds of thousands of pounds concealing naughty MPs' lavish expenses.

A jolly Gordon appeared on YouTube, grinning away like a maniac. Oh, how Gordon jealously, shamelessly sucked-up to President Obamessiah!

Labour suffered their worst election results in a hundred years. Why, somehow even Wales went blue! Many disloyal Ministers left like rats from a sinking ship. Following this, Gordon slammed his big clunking fist on his office table, then threw a telephone across the room.

"Can I stay in power?" asked Gordon, dejectedly. "Why, only if we have that Lisbon Treaty referendum that you promised us." said the electorate.

Anglophobe Gordon, laughing away, just said "No!". But nationwide, there were riots in the streets, and Her Majesty at last dissolved Parliament. Ultimately, there was a drawn-out General Election, and that nice dimwit David "Call Me Dave" Cameron became new Prime Minister with a mammoth majority, while the defeated Gordon was beheaded, and his ghastly New Labour thieving weasels were never heard of again. With that, there was joy and jubilation!

907

SUMMER SUN

Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven with repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.

Though closer still the blinds we pull
To keep the shady parlour cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two
To slip his golden fingers through.

The dusty attic spider-clad
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;
And through the broken edge of tiles
Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.

Meantime his golden face around
He bares to all the garden ground,
And sheds a warm and glittering look
Among the ivy's inmost nook.

Above the hills, along the blue,
Round the bright air with footing true,
To please the child, to paint the rose,
The gardener of the World, he goes.

SUMMER SUN

Running delighted on the beach,
Out of both town and reach.
Baking the torso on hollow days,
Enduring the lethal UV rays.

Reeking of odd, ghastly suntan lotion,
Taking a watery dip in the ocean.
Looking for, oh, sweltering pleasure;
Otherwise, it ain't high leisure.

Under the third hotel umbrella,
Is the dogged photographer fella
Sheltered from the hellish sun,
Shoots his old thrill: telephoto fun!

Thanks to this much-needed break!
E-mails withheld, for God's sake!
Vegetating together on the parched sand,
Eating the healthy, hot chowder grand.

Naked, ogling the bodies that girls display;
Summer is really a huge holiday.
Oh, what a pose! So big-chested;
Now I'm pretty overwhelmed, much rested!

908

William Shakespeare's Sonnet 24

Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell'd
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And perspective it is best painter's art.
For through the painter must you see his skill,
To find where your true image pictured lies;
Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes.
Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee;
Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art;
They draw but what they see, know not the heart.

The True Source of the Morning Radiance

When one dawn nears the house, I wake to view
These frenzied rays, which through the window stream;
The tidy room appears too young and new
When freely, gaily lit by gorgeous beams.
I see them style a crystal vase and plinth
With dots of golden-white, and then I gaze
As they play in the tiny labyrinth
Within the dew-wet primrose in the vase.
But as the rays run by the pure white sheet,
Then softly hit my peachy bride's fair shape,
I fondly think it might stay praised and sweet
Were I to raise my hand to shut these drapes.
It's not the sun that makes these things here bloom;
The sleeper near me - she lights up the room.

909

THE TODDLER WEIGHT-LOSS DIET

As you may have noticed, most two-year-olds are trim. The secret to their success is finally available in this new miracle diet. (You may want to consult your doctor before attempting this diet.)

DAY ONE
Breakfast: One scrambled egg, one piece of toast with grape jelly. Eat two bites of the egg, using your fingers; dump the rest on the floor. Take one bite of toast, then smear the jelly all over your face and clothes.

Lunch: Four crayons, a handful of potato chips, and a glass of milk (three sips only, then spill the rest).

Dinner: A dry stick, two dimes and a nickel, four sips of flat Sprite.

Bedtime snack: Throw a piece of toast on the kitchen floor.

DAY TWO
Breakfast: Pick up stale toast from kitchen floor and eat it. Drink half bottle of vanilla extract or one vial of vegetable dye.

Lunch: Half tube of "Pulsating Pink" lipstick and a handful of Purina Dog Chow (any flavor). One ice cube, if desired.

Afternoon snack: Lick an all-day sucker until sticky, take outside, drop in dirt. Retrieve and continue slurping until it is fresh and clean again. Then bring inside and drop on rug.

Dinner: A rock or an uncooked bean, which should be thrust up your left nostril. Pour grape Kool-Aid on mashed potatoes; eat with spoon.

DAY THREE
Breakfast: Two pancakes with plenty of syrup; eat one with fingers, rub in hair and shirt. Glass of milk; drink half, stuff other pancake in glass. After breakfast, pick up yesterday's sticky sucker from the rug, lick off fur, and put it on cushion of dad's best chair.

Lunch: Eat three wooden matches, peanut butter (protein) and jelly sandwich. Spit out several bites onto the kitchen floor. Pour glass of milk on the table and slurp it up.

Dinner: Dish of ice cream, handful of potato chips, orange punch. Try to laugh a little through your nose, if possible.

LAST DAY
Breakfast: A little toothpaste, bit of soap (nontoxic), one oily olive. Pour glass of milk over bowl of cornflakes, add a half-cup of honey. Once cereal is soggy, drink sweet milk. Give gooey cereal to the dog. Drop vitamin and genuine Tonka toy down heat vent.

Lunchtime: Eat stale bread crumbs, old Dorito and dirty Cheerio off the kitchen floor and dining room carpet. Retrieve yesterday's sucker, finish it.

Dinner: Enjoy concoction of spaghetti noodles, sauce, and chocolate milk. Leave uneaten meatball on dinner plate. Try to swallow mascara tube for dessert.

(Dietitian note: A well-tolerated and nutritional weight-loss diet; no antidote is usually indicated.)