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This Golden Age Harvey Kennett
When where you born ?
I’ll hazard a guess and say it was in the wrong age.
It’s strange how everyone I have met
Wishes they were born some time else.
Are we destined to reject the era of our birth ?
To look back on past times and see better times
Of our own choosing ?
A knight, clad in brilliant armour,
Upon a steed so magnificent that maidens avert their eyes ?
Thundering along the tilt, lance in hand,
Glory and Honour a breath away ?
Or in a future age, where we are voyage masters
Of our own destiny,
Pointing our spacecraft in to the unknown
And setting the hyperdrive to oblivion?
Why do we discard this age ?
With its opportunity for adventure ?
Because the colouring book of the here and now is blank,
Dull and lifeless.
It needs our artistry to explore and colour with the deeds
Of our future.
Far easier to look back on a book illuminated with the
Actions of our ancestors,
Or a book coloured with the imaginations of our future,
Than write our own.
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