Myyyyy my, he cant sing either . Sorry Glen, or RC or is it RP now , but I have no clue of which you speak. I have only a shirt that says rolling thunder on the back. Yea, no tags, ribbons, dodads, pins nor humorous slogans. Narey a bit of chrome that could be mistaken for a rhinestone. Unlike a certain VV rider ,of which (I DO)have pictures with all his momentous souvenirs and campaign ribbon adornment. All that and short pants too. Bare knobby knees askew for the world to see. Unlike old no nonsence Sniper who rides with jeans and a T shirt, less the winter wind blows in from Yankee land. Then it is leather and leather only. Only to defer the duck bumps.
Sno, You should know of T Campbell. A kilted poet was he. Such poems as ,Lord Ullins Daughter,,Freedom and love. Now tell me are you more into Tennyson, Browning, and Wordsworth ? What of Hugh McDiarmid. Should be up you ally.
The sunlicht still on me, you row'd in clood
We look upon each ither noo like hills
Across a valley. I'm nae mair your son.
It is my mind, nae son o' yours , that looks,
And the great darkness o' your death comes up
And equals it across the way.
A livin' man upon a died man thinks
And ony sma'er thocht's impossible. Now mr spell checker is going to have a field day with that one.
If we would read the secret history of our enemies,we would find in each mans life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.