I have ridden an old bike before in the shimmering sunset on Troon prom,
but I have never ridden a rocket to the misty moon through the unknowing universe.
I have walked on green grass on solid ground in my glorious garden in Troon,
but I have never strolled on the misty moon in outer space gazing at the glistening stars.
I have touched the whistling waves of Troon horse shoe shaped beach, but I have never touched a single glowing candle flame, like St. Bernadette did.
I have smelt smoke from a wood burning fire or a brilliant barbeque in the fabulous Fullarton Woods in Troon,
but I have never smelt the wet soggy fur of a penguin from the Artic Ocean.
I have captured a fabulous scaly fish on a boat at the edge of Scotland,
but I have never captured a flaming asteroid from space with one single lasso.