Poetic Verse

"Prelude"

"In youth I gnawed life's bitter rind

And shared the rugged lot

Of fellows rude and unrefined,

Frustrated and forgot;

And now alas! it is too late

My sorry ways to mend,

So sadly I accept my fate,

A Roughneck to the end.

Profanity is in my voice

And slag is in my rhyme,

For I have mucked with men who curse

And grovel in the grime;

My fingers were not formed, I fear,

To frame a pretty pen,

So please forgive me if I veer

From Virtue now and then.

For I would be the living voice,

Though raucous is its tone,

Of men who rarely may rejoice,

Yet barely ever moan:

The rovers of the raw-ribbed lands,

The lads of lowly worth,

The scallywags with scaley hands

Who weld the ends of earth."

- Robert Service

I saw this at Coyote Prime/Running 'Cause I Can't Fly, one of my daily reads. Link's in the sidebar. I'm thinking this poem would be a good one to read at my funeral.

I had to take the old girl to the doctor's yesterday - appointment at 11:00, we did lunch, and I went to the boxing club later. Pretty much shot the day in the ass but nothing new there. I'll hit the health club today or tomorrow and the boxing club on Saturday again. If I stay with it, I should be in pretty good shape come springtime.