It was a lovely day in September
While taking the dog for a walk.
A whistle, and I was forced to remember,
The Wardle departure to clock.

I stopped in my path and leaned on a pine,
Near by where they built the Privee
Sweet memories, then a moment of sadness was mine
While the tears were not far from me

Then I gazed down the valley of beauty,
With the sunset alighting Cascade,
And my courage came back with a vigor,
On wishes, so strong that I made.

As I followed the smoke around the mountain,
Picturing you in the train,
Thinking of Ottawa; where I wish you,
Health, wealth, happiness, and Banff again.

I looked once more, and my view comes nearer
To Hospital, Home, and the Pile,
Rising up from the ashes of history,
To beauty, and business a while.

And I thought how the Government moves us,
Out into the stream of life,
Develop, or fail, by our grit or wail,
Living is just such a strife.

So I stroll with my dog on the evenings
But I never go past the privee,
Without thought of the Wardle departure,
And the Specialist, J.M., read to me.

It was a lovely day in May,
When I took the fonds from the vault.
A sneeze, and I was forced to say,
"I acquired this - it's all my fault."

I stopped in my tracks and leaned on a table.
The box was heavy, I must confess.
I'm not really sure I'll be able
I'll make any sense of this mess.

I gazed down on the stuff.
The light was catching the files.
The papers looked pretty rough.
The records seemed to stretch for miles.

I began to sort through it.
Arrange, arrange, arrange.
It felt like, I was a bit,
Set on a path to derange.

Keep it, toss it, set it aside.
This is turning into a trial.
I might as well enjoy the ride.
I'll be sitting here for a while.

Put it in boxes, put it in folders,
Get started on the RAD.
This fonds is making me older.
Can it really be this bad?

Finally, it's done.
I can fiddle with it no more.
The battle's been won.
Good thing - I've got researchers at the door!