Nineteen twenty three
Meant nothing to me,
I came knocking on the door
In nineteen twenty four –
As I later learned, that
Was the year of the Rat –
How such a fact could change a thing?
What if I had been a changeling?
But the ways of the World are strange
And it’s not left  to us to arrange
Whatever destiny foretells –
Just to ring the bells –
And if that seems precarious
I was also Sagittarius,
Another format to fit
It seems impossible, but it
Isn’t up to us to decree
Nor even attempt to disagree,
It all stacks up somewhere
Even if it doesn’t seem quite fair;
And although it’s very strange
Because beyond our human range
It’s not meant to be on our terms
And only belief confirms
There can be a bridging link
Between what we think
We deserve, and what we get
And I suppose it’s a fair bet
That most of us are dubious
About getting what is due to us –
You just have to soldier on
Whether in Crewe or Wimbledon
Knowing only a little more
Than you used to know before
As we head towards the exit door
To find out more.

November 1995