Margo wrote this poem in memory of a special lady.

For Riffat.

 Now a spud on his shoulder And a spud in the field.

There's ever a man who ever did weald. He loved a girl and married her right.

 He was the guy she held tight.
 He took no time for wining and dining.
 He went bent low to lift her right up.
She did blow to hit his head for it was low and shiney and she was learning to write instead.

 So there they stood when at last don't we know a dust of glow from above to below like confetti would you know.

 So they stand in sted and sail To hear the bells doing ting a ling ling.

 And at lasty blast all the bells in Shropshire sing.

 Bucket and bales At last become Queen and King.

Gosport

Immanuel GOD'S PORT OUR HAVEN!

Hallucinations

They have had the effect they should have had! What? The Hallucinations! Their destruction. They achieved what they set out to achieve. To Wreak havoc and destroy what is good. To take away friendship, destruction from those who are cherished. But my friendship is built upon a rock, not easily knocked. It firmly stands both wind and rain, it gives me no pain. I trust you see. Looks far out to sea. Beyond the rocks that wait for me. The quick sand that hunger for my house. They have no hope they fail to see. It's God alone that watches over me.