He has, indeed, with luck perhaps
managed to grow an inch above my head.
The stewardess who walked with him,
as they de-planed was duly smitten
...
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You must be a wonderful father Herbert! It sounds like you enjoyed your visit with your son very much. I wonder........does he read your poetry here? Great poem. Sincerely, Mary
Yes, Denis you are right. A son who lives so far away and had come home for Christmas. Thanks for your kind words, your comments are always welcome. Best H
This is fantastic Herbert. At once, one is forced to ask: ' who is the person; a son? an old School buddie? You create a mystery, not only concerning the relationship of the two people, but also over how this reunion took place: was it arranged or a chance meeting? . Then, once the work has resolved itself the reader is left with the feeling that it doesn't matter. I was particulary taken by the aside 'a bit of wind and one small thought of men with guns', a sort of reminder that paranoia, brought on by the external world, imposes itself, Banquo-like, on our everyday life.
This one, Herbs! ! G.