I suspect this was written by George Dance, as it perfectly captures his view of our resident Donkey:

LORD LOVE A DONKEY

In the hills of this grand old country,
Lived a Donkey named Will, stubborn and bluntly,
Illiterate he was, with no words to read,
But he claimed, "I'm a poet!" with unwavering creed.

A fat, redneck, some called him hillbilly,
Stinky and sweaty, a sight quite uncouth really,
But that didn't stop him from trying his hand,
To weave rhymes and verses across the land.

With a stomp in his step and a twinkle in his eye,
Will Donkey wrote poems, his passions would not die,
Though his talent was lacking, his words were askew,
He believed in his heart, his art was something new.

One day he recited, to a skeptical crowd,
His verses stumbled and his rhymes were too loud,
Yet he persisted, undeterred by their disdain,
Hoping someone, somewhere, would see his reign.

But alas, no accolades came his weary way,
His poems remained mocked, every single day,
Yet Will Donkey remained, steadfast and true,
In his heart, there was something he knew.

For within the realm of his untalented craft,
Lay the essence of a dream, a soul that laughed,
He may not have been a master of the pen,
But his spirit soared high, beyond the glen.

So let us remember, as the tale goes on,
That talent is not defined merely by a song,
For even Will Donkey, with his unpolished art,
Taught us to speak from the depths of our heart.

So let us appreciate each voice, bold or shy,
For it's the passion within that helps dreams fly,
Let us cherish the imperfect, the unique and the odd,
For sometimes, it's those voices that touch us most, by God.

On Tuesday, August 29, 2023 at 3:43:24 AM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> I suspect this was written by George Dance, as it perfectly captures his view of our resident Donkey:
This is a thought-provoking poem, and we agree that it has echoes of a George Dance authorship. However, it also clearly speaks of a Jordy's Uncle position, which is that everyone, no matter the level of talent or subject matter, should be heard by all in any venue.
>
> LORD LOVE A DONKEY
>
> In the hills of this grand old country,
> Lived a Donkey named Will, stubborn and bluntly,
> Illiterate he was, with no words to read,
> But he claimed, "I'm a poet!" with unwavering creed.
>
> A fat, redneck, some called him hillbilly,
> Stinky and sweaty, a sight quite uncouth really,
> But that didn't stop him from trying his hand,
> To weave rhymes and verses across the land.
Or at least the small region in which Donkeys roam.
>
> With a stomp in his step and a twinkle in his eye,
> Will Donkey wrote poems, his passions would not die,
> Though his talent was lacking, his words were askew,
> He believed in his heart, his art was something new.
This is Jordy's Uncle's sticky thought too--that if you believe it, it is so.
>
> One day he recited, to a skeptical crowd,
> His verses stumbled and his rhymes were too loud,
> Yet he persisted, undeterred by their disdain,
> Hoping someone, somewhere, would see his reign.
"And then along came" George Dance!
>
> But alas, no accolades came his weary way,
> His poems remained mocked, every single day,
> Yet Will Donkey remained, steadfast and true,
> In his heart, there was something he knew.
He knew it but couldn't express it in words?
>
> For within the realm of his untalented craft,
> Lay the essence of a dream, a soul that laughed,
> He may not have been a master of the pen,
> But his spirit soared high, beyond the glen.
Is "high" a double meaning here?
>
> So let us remember, as the tale goes on,
> That talent is not defined merely by a song,
> For even Will Donkey, with his unpolished art,
> Taught us to speak from the depths of our heart.
And we shouldn't listen with just our ears but with our hearts and minds, and hear what isn't there, what was intended but not fulfilled.
>
> So let us appreciate each voice, bold or shy,
Jordy's Uncle's creed! Give us your stupids, your drunks, your loudmouths, your lazies, your absolutely untalented, your bullies and trolls, your selfish and give them the same platform as anyone else. Publish them, listen to them, appreciate and idolize them.

> For it's the passion within that helps dreams fly,
> Let us cherish the imperfect, the unique and the odd,
> For sometimes, it's those voices that touch us most, by God.
Well, "touch us" is a stretch. Maybe irritate us would be better? There is a place for Donkeys, and it is in the barn.

On Monday, August 28, 2023 at 11:43:24 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> I suspect this was written by George Dance, as it perfectly captures his view of our resident Donkey:
>
> LORD LOVE A DONKEY
>
> In the hills of this grand old country,
> Lived a Donkey named Will, stubborn and bluntly,
> Illiterate he was, with no words to read,
> But he claimed, "I'm a poet!" with unwavering creed.
>
> A fat, redneck, some called him hillbilly,
> Stinky and sweaty, a sight quite uncouth really,
> But that didn't stop him from trying his hand,
> To weave rhymes and verses across the land.
>
> With a stomp in his step and a twinkle in his eye,
> Will Donkey wrote poems, his passions would not die,
> Though his talent was lacking, his words were askew,
> He believed in his heart, his art was something new.
>
> One day he recited, to a skeptical crowd,
> His verses stumbled and his rhymes were too loud,
> Yet he persisted, undeterred by their disdain,
> Hoping someone, somewhere, would see his reign.
>
> But alas, no accolades came his weary way,
> His poems remained mocked, every single day,
> Yet Will Donkey remained, steadfast and true,
> In his heart, there was something he knew.
>
> For within the realm of his untalented craft,
> Lay the essence of a dream, a soul that laughed,
> He may not have been a master of the pen,
> But his spirit soared high, beyond the glen.
>
> So let us remember, as the tale goes on,
> That talent is not defined merely by a song,
> For even Will Donkey, with his unpolished art,
> Taught us to speak from the depths of our heart.
>
> So let us appreciate each voice, bold or shy,
> For it's the passion within that helps dreams fly,
> Let us cherish the imperfect, the unique and the odd,
> For sometimes, it's those voices that touch us most, by God.

Hey, this was actually good. Dance needs to use it as the foreword of Dockery's next book!

On Tuesday, August 29, 2023 at 6:47:26 AM UTC-4, Ash Wurthing wrote:
> On Monday, August 28, 2023 at 11:43:24 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > I suspect this was written by George Dance, as it perfectly captures his view of our resident Donkey:
> >
> > LORD LOVE A DONKEY
> >
> > In the hills of this grand old country,
> > Lived a Donkey named Will, stubborn and bluntly,
> > Illiterate he was, with no words to read,
> > But he claimed, "I'm a poet!" with unwavering creed.
> >
> > A fat, redneck, some called him hillbilly,
> > Stinky and sweaty, a sight quite uncouth really,
> > But that didn't stop him from trying his hand,
> > To weave rhymes and verses across the land.
> >
> > With a stomp in his step and a twinkle in his eye,
> > Will Donkey wrote poems, his passions would not die,
> > Though his talent was lacking, his words were askew,
> > He believed in his heart, his art was something new.
> >
> > One day he recited, to a skeptical crowd,
> > His verses stumbled and his rhymes were too loud,
> > Yet he persisted, undeterred by their disdain,
> > Hoping someone, somewhere, would see his reign.
> >
> > But alas, no accolades came his weary way,
> > His poems remained mocked, every single day,
> > Yet Will Donkey remained, steadfast and true,
> > In his heart, there was something he knew.
> >
> > For within the realm of his untalented craft,
> > Lay the essence of a dream, a soul that laughed,
> > He may not have been a master of the pen,
> > But his spirit soared high, beyond the glen.
> >
> > So let us remember, as the tale goes on,
> > That talent is not defined merely by a song,
> > For even Will Donkey, with his unpolished art,
> > Taught us to speak from the depths of our heart.
> >
> > So let us appreciate each voice, bold or shy,
> > For it's the passion within that helps dreams fly,
> > Let us cherish the imperfect, the unique and the odd,
> > For sometimes, it's those voices that touch us most, by God.
> Hey, this was actually good. Dance needs to use it as the foreword of Dockery's next book!

Should I ping the sWill ass opinion editor?