Silicon Investor (SI) -- The First Internet Community

STOCKTALK

We've detected that you're using an ad content blocking browser plug-in or feature. Ads provide a critical source of revenue to the continued operation of Silicon Investor. We ask that you disable ad blocking while on Silicon Investor in the best interests of our community. If you are not using an ad blocker but are still receiving this message, make sure your browser's tracking protection is set to the 'standard' level.

Pastimes : A Poetry Corner -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: DADEPFAN who wrote (261)	7/26/1999 5:27:00 PM
From: Robert Douglas Hickey	Respond to of 1582

The Grand Undertaking ...a most beautiful art ...a most profitable industry ...a most fit enterprise for gentlemen Walhachin promotional brochure, circa 1905. An earthly Paradise will be realized here the cultivation of apple trees will benefit men of vision with wealth beyond their dreams, here in the New World, where the Union Jack proudly flies. An American engineer and a Scottish Lord: the first creates infrastructure on scientific principles the second creates stable social order on feudal principles together, purveyors of a Grand Undertaking on benchland by the river. Walhachin boasts a swimming pool a dance hall with sprung-horsehair floor two hotels, several manor houses, and thousands of apple trees. All of this in a parched desert all of this crafted, supported by the labour of indentured hundreds - serfs. The Lord and his fine gentlemen direct from screened verendas in the summer by roaring whole-log fires in the winter interrupting fine-wine dinners gracious conversations with elegant ladies to ensure the minions scurry to comply promptly the lower classes - like children, you know - short attention spans. So it goes as Edward (God Save) comes to the throne golden years spinning out blissfully, diligently calmly, quietly - until a storm arises from Sarajevo which engulfs Europe whose thunder is heard even in faraway Walhachin whereupon the Lord lifts his head. The entire colony is called to arms, two months of drill practice marching between the blossoming apple trees a Walhachin regiment, all the able-bodied men, led by the Lord. For Britain and the King they sail to France, where the Lord presents his sword to sage generals who approve of the pipes and drums, kilts a spit-and-polish outfit, send them on, immediately, to Vimy Ridge. Led slow-march by skirling pipes up the hill lugubrious cannon fodder - to a man, cut down cut down dead and in minutes, a decade-long colonial dream ends. The apple trees remain tended, for a season, by the women until the terrible news comes home, whereupon they lose heart, and hope, grieve together, then drift apart. Some apple trees remain still tenacious, obstinate, in mute testament to the by-gone values of self-made, self-important imperiously deluded men who'd do it all, even the slow-march, again. Robert Douglas Hickey