Tag: poem

Captain’s Log

Sir Francis Drake had what it takes

To sail around the world

And followed in Magellan’s wake

With England’s flag unfurled.

Along his route he plundered loot

Until the hold was packed

With millions from Brazilians

And the Spaniards he attacked.

On his return, the English yearned

To learn of far off places

Of queens and perils unforeseen

And men with painted faces.

Bess knighted Francis on his ship

While desperately hoping

He’d share his tips for crispy chips

And how to blow a smoke ring.

Soon after he was off again

And set sail heading west

But Fortune soon abandoned him

In this, his final quest.

Sir Francis survived cannon balls

And arrows tipped with poison

But in the end, when Nature called

It ravaged then destroyed him

For dysentery killed our man

Then almost caused a shipwreck

That’s why they sealed him in a can

And christened it the poop deck

A Sine of Genus

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Imagine sitting by a lake

And wondering what it would take

To calculate the area

The formula would scare ya.

Or, fancy while beneath a tree

You’re struck by thoughts of gravity

Quite tough with which to grapple

Whilst snacking on an apple.

Or, say you’re watching tortoises

When what you start to notice is

Through clever adaptation

They’ve dodged annihilation.

Imagine peering into space

Amazed how it all hangs in place  

Then arguing dark matter

Might make the cosmos scatter.

Great minds considered these and more

From ancient Greece to Ecuador

This group of geeks is quite well-versed

At sorting out our universe.

What theorem might I devise?

Am I not wise? There is some doubt

For I’ve just only realised

You close the fridge, the light goes out…

Counsel Culture

Making Sense of All the Jargon | Dav Management

Sue sits at her laptop

Pinging emails to herself

Andy’s new ZOOM backdrop

Is a virtual bookshelf

Pete’s touched base with Linked-In

To float this week’s ideation

Debbie’s power-thinking

More proactive penetration.

Management consultants

Hoped that Covid would pay out

Not to be insultant

But such optics are in doubt.

Companies aren’t calling

They’re too strapped to hear advice

How a day’s paint-balling

Might increase their market slice

Or to learn new jargon

To appear that more astute

Not an easy bargain

While you sport a sumo suit.

As employees now head back

(the lucky and the few)

Some consultants need to ask:

What is it that I do?

In Emergency: Break Class

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We sent the students home today
And then wrote off the year
Agreeing we would all downplay
The panic and the fear.
The younger ones all whooped and cheered
As soon as they were told
Then out the door they disappeared
To watch events unfold.
The seniors nervously dispersed
First, shell-shocked, then resigned
This endgame they had not rehearsed
Would leave some friends behind.
Worse still, I had no lesson plan
No academic text
No clever quote from some wise man
To say what might come next.

Image result for last day of secondary school shirt sign

I struggled with this year’s goodbyes
But didn’t let it show
Instead I joked and signed their ties
And let them call me Bro!
Throughout the revelry we knew
The world was not the same
Our balanced lives were now askew
And we were not to blame.
But you can’t keep a good kid down
When they’re up for the fight
And as I watched them rally round
I knew they’d be alright.
The proof came when I reached my car
That’s when my vision blurred
In foam they’d written Au revoir!
Then What’s the French for NERD???