Jottings from the dog eared book
Remind me how, I once mistook,
That chance was that which forced the pace
When chance, of course, was luck displaced.
Counted realms of quick return
Of lotto tickets I've seen burn?
Traced the moments caste to wind
Of failures, forced to fast rescind?
Spat the bile of deep regret
As fickle fortunes plummet, yet.
Felt the panic coursing through
To good advice, ignored, from you.
Watched as good luck passed me by
Knowing full well ... Pigs Might Fly!
Sadly blind, to lessons learnt
To stagger forth... To Bridges Burnt!

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ