Let those who are in favour with their stars
set out upon a journey round the moon;
cast aside restraint, break through the bars
of brittle caution. Life must end too soon
and choices disappear like Autumn mist.
So gird your fabled loins, you daring few
who face the Minotaur; who have been kissed
by courage lesser mortals never knew.

Good luck to them, I say, those heroes all,
but spare a thought for all us normal folk
who live and love and work – and often fall
between the cracks, bowed down by Time’s dark yoke.
Those of us whose stars will grant no favour
must taste the food of life…. without its flavour.

Bill Fitzsimons

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