Home-spun wool, looped through fish bone, can’t sow your clothes now ;

A meal of suet and gristle stew, with hard bread, no longer makes your mouth water;

Chasing lambs, knocking cattle on their sides, tumbling down grassy hills ‘n’ vernes in fits of giggles;

Simple games of your youth and humble beginnings forgotten on the incline,

Uncomfortable truths give way to more comfortable prose, when the summit is in sight;

Never realising that the summit is a harsh, inhospitable and baron place;

With so many trampling over each other for a foothold, it’s home to none for too long;

And, courtesy and  humility are not character flaws to be ashamed of, or embarrassed by;

For, a pioneer with the much-envied ‘ace gene’ once said of their corollary- humbleness:

‘There is no act too small, for a truly big man’.