.Space cadet.

A rhyme…

One of the most beguiling things about being young is the capacity to let your imagination rip. Creativity unchained. Nothing is off limits and neither should it be. As such when I was a kid my imagination would turn any object into anything. All I had to do was think it and it was unequivocally real. Some who know me well might suggest that nothing’s changed, but that’s for me to know and for you to - well - imagine…

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. S p a c e   c a d e t.

Marmaduke Jones thought that he was from Mars,
his primary mission - defending the stars.
He’d convinced himself this, if nobody else,
who would tell you - when pressed - he was actually Welsh.

But the boy rose above such trifling lies,
his detractors, quite clearly, were enemy spies,
sent down to Earth to trash his good name;
try to belittle him; diminish his fame.

For famous he was, this boy from Caerphilly,
and incurring his wrath was both dangerous and silly.
His ray-gun, for instance, could achieve rapid fire,
(though it did look suspiciously like a cordless hairdryer).