Poor conquered monarch! though that haughty glance Still speaks thy courage unsubdued by time, And in the grandeur of thy sullen tread Lives the proud spirit of thy burning clime;— Fettered by things that shudder at thy roar, Torn from thy pathless wilds to pace this narrow floor.
My Formative years were spent between two wartime airfields, so each night was spent sleeping in shelters, and school was always tense as dogfights were being fought overhead, We made our own amusement in those days, and presents were second hand wooden toys if any could be found. My teenage life found me on Motorbikes and fast cars. , My Later life was dogged by peaks and troughs of health problems.