Dear friends in POET,

Today, the 23rd of April, is the anniversary of the birth and, curiously, the death of the world's greatest poet William Shakespeare. It is also St George's day - the patron Saint of England. Today too is my Granddaughter's 4th Birthday - Happy Birthday Tegan! So there's a little more Anglosaxon included in my post to celebrate (explanations in brackets).

Much time has been spent here regarding the machinations of the start stop BNN interview of our interim CEO. In my opinion the interview is a total Red Herring (unnecessary divertion) for our English as a second language readers

The expectation that there will be some form of news divulged by our CEO is improbable, he is far more likely to play with a straight bat (cricket term for a straight forward defensive stroke ) to expand awareness of PTI than announce news.

PC was quite clear about his approach to the get us to the NASDAQ campaign. At the CIC he told his audience that he is cautious man and will not make a move until all the factors that are needed to make that approach succeed are in place. Clearly, he has not been able to fire the opening volley of his proposed campaign (a military analogy) because all is not in place viz Spluttering machines and the unspecified delays that have resulted. I would imagine our potential multi-billion partners is justifiably on hold.

My point is that without revealing every managerial twist and technical turn, our management has given us all we need to know for the moment until the campaign to get to the NASDAQ is launched, when we shall see the promised coordinated release of good news which will propel the POET SP forward.

What would worry me far more would be a steam of constant explanations from our leaders which would be far more damaging than the pregnant pause we are enduring.

As ever we are being overzealous in our desire to know all.

Sula

ps from Henry V - before the battle of Agincour.

The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'

And POET!