As necessary, we have set sail towards the nearest port this morning. I believe we are heading towards a small island southeast of Argo Bay. I can’t remember the name, and myself have never been good with maps and the like. You’ll have to talk to Milton for specifics. And, hey, I’ll work on having the man put a map of the world together. That might be interesting to look at.
Since we had to leave so early this morning, I was unable to make a trip to the city today. But, I do have a surprise for you, as promised. See, I fancy myself a bit of a poet. Well, my promise to you is, if there is nothing else of interest to include here, I’ll show you one of my poems. So, for today, I’m including the text of a poem below.
The Gears of Mice
On the ground
Pausing when the gears get stuck
Motoring through holes
Jumping over rocks
Nibbling on cheese
All powered by little metal gears
The gears of mice
To carry out their life function
I shall also add another section header to the log, called Poetry, where you will find copies of these poems.