tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836430699432848038.post8011040103250770458..comments2010-02-24T14:48:44.106-08:00Comments on memoirs of a new beginning: trainsmarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054600091429194357noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6836430699432848038.post-29291517586153389702008-10-03T20:35:00.000-07:002008-10-03T20:35:00.000-07:00Your blog entry brought to mind an apropos poem fr...Your blog entry brought to mind an apropos poem from Wendy Cope:<BR/><BR/>Bloody men are like bloody buses<BR/>You wait for about a year<BR/>And as soon as one approaches your stop<BR/>Two or three others appear.<BR/><BR/>You look at them flashing their indicators, <BR/>Offering you a ride. <BR/>You're trying to read the destinations, <BR/>You haven't much time to decide.<BR/><BR/>If you make a mistake, there is no turning back. <BR/>Jump off, and you'll stand there and gaze <BR/>While the cars and the taxis and lorries go by <BR/>And the minutes, the hours, the days.Laineyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01546298128058578861noreply@blogger.com