I often keep thinking and thinking
Of the changes now everywhere;
While I’m dozing nodding and blinking
Sitting in my old armchair.
I know our inventors are clever –
To belittle them I would be slow,
But I wonder at times shall we ever
Be able to fly like a crow.

With big gander wings a brave bouchail
From his chimney top tried it one day,
He had luck – he came down in the dunghill;
T’was softer than pavement or clay.
Men can sit in their planes and go flying;
But that is a different show.
They will fly if they bravely keep trying
And take a few tips from the crow.

MICHAEL MULLIN ‘The Bard of Foremass
Foremas Lower, Sixmilecross.