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LETTER: Time change enough to drive one to poetry

The Puppeteer
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The Puppeteer

Oh hail the master puppeteer

Controller of the strings

The altruistic engineer

Sagaciousness he brings

With breathtaking dexterity

He moves us all about

From rich and famed celebrity

To every down-and-out

When he feels the time is right

He drives our limbs to action

Manipulating day and night

Gives him much satisfaction

And having no mind of our own

We let him have his way

As twice a year by strings alone

He shifts the time of day

Propelling us from room to room

Inside our little houses

Oblivious of how we fume

The anguish this arouses

Springing forward; falling back

Our arms and legs obey

Our puppeteer is right on track

To bugger-up our day

Forward/back, year after year

Is clearly idiotic

Yet why we do is still unclear

We all appear robotic

Our puppeteer is way off track

He makes life complicated

Our inner clocks all out of whack

All discombobulated

Oh why this foolish pantomime?

What purpose this decree?

What use this faulty paradigm?

What help to you and me?

Our puppeteer has lost his charms

We’re dangling just by threads

Our little wooden legs and arms

Our little wooden heads!

Norma Pain

Parksville