Filed under: asperger's syndrome, personal development, Poetry, social media, Steampunk, Uncategorized | Tags: Boys Own, Dumas, Goethe, Jane Austen, JK Rowling, NaPoWriMo, Polly Carveth, Space Captain Smith, Steampunk, Suruk the Slayer, Terry Pratchett, Toby Frost
I am reading again Toby Frost’s ‘Space Captain Smith’ books, it’s what makes literacy worthwhile.
“Up and at ’em chaps!” Space Captain Smith said
With pith helmet white and his jacket red,
“I’ll not rest ’till all the Gerties are dead!”
But poor Polly Carveth just shook her head.
Suruk smiled at the prospect of slaughter
And mayhem, as a warrior ought to.
Polly couldn’t grasp the skills that he’d taught her,
But she was only a test tube’s daughter…
Do you recall those happy Boys Own Days?
We would eschew evil, good conduct praise.
A chap was known by the straight bat he plays
And the tea he drank, moral fibre to raise.
Jane Austen’s women were witty. her men
Were men. Life was less complicated then.
Then books were caught by reality’s pen
Until new heroes brought joy back again.
Once it had looked as if reading was lost
Publishers about to give up the ghost,
But before the web could sound the last post
In charged new writers among them, Toby Frost!
Oh the joy of reading, few can match it.
Read a book, you don’t have to watch it!
When literacy itches you must scratch it.
Thank Goethe for Dumas, Rowling and Pratchett!
Filed under: asperger's syndrome, Parenting, personal development, Poetry, Politics, Religion, Scotland, social media, Steampunk, Writing | Tags: Boys Own, Dumas, Goethe, Jane Austen, JK Rowling, NaPoWriMo, Polly Carveth, Space Captain Smith, Steampunk, Suruk the Slayer, Terry Pratchett, Toby Frost
I am reading again Toby Frost’s ‘Space Captain Smith’ books, it’s what makes literacy worthwhile.
“Up and at ’em chaps!” Space Captain Smith said
With pith helmet white and his jacket red,
“I’ll not rest ’till all the Gerties are dead!”
But poor Polly Carveth just shook her head.
Suruk smiled at the prospect of slaughter
And mayhem, as a warrior ought to.
Polly couldn’t grasp the skills that he’d taught her,
But she was only a test tube’s daughter…
Do you recall those happy Boys Own Days?
We would eschew evil, good conduct praise.
A chap was known by the straight bat he plays
And the tea he drank, moral fibre to raise.
Jane Austen’s women were witty. her men
Were men. Life was less complicated then.
Then books were caught by reality’s pen
Until new heroes brought joy back again.
Once it had looked as if reading was lost
Publishers about to give up the ghost,
But before the web could sound the last post
In charged new writers among them, Toby Frost!
Oh the joy of reading, few can match it.
Read a book, you don’t have to watch it!
When literacy itches you must scratch it.
Thank Goethe for Dumas, Rowling and Pratchett!
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