A Poem for the 75th

Listen to the dots and dashes
Why, how perfectly absurd!
Surely no man ever hashes
Such sounds to make a word.

Do you mean to say the clicking
Of that little brass machine?.
That small monotone of ticking
Talks, with miles and miles between?.

No, I never will believe it:
No one would, with any sense!.
Reason, judgment, can’t receive it
“Tis the veriest pretence.

Just because I’m old and feeble,
People tell me dreadful lies,
Thinking I’ll believe such twaddle,
Young folks think they’re awful wise!.

Now when I was young (and pretty),
Young folks would respect grey hairs.
But in these days – mores the pity
Old people ain’t anywheres!.

(by Fanny Frond 1882)
copywright NZ Vintage Radio Society publication
Thanks Alby C for the contribution