narratorAUSTRALIA Volume Two

Wae twa clothes pegs oan his leaky parts,

  oaf the the hospital went this auld fart.

  Haudin aw his nether parts wae his richt hand,

  enterin’ emergency whare aw the nurses stand.

  Noo there wisnae wan wee dry eye tae be seen,

  tryin’ tae see Peter’s dilemma they wir a very keen.

  Comments like; dae yea need a hand wae that?

  Dae yea need a wheelchair fur yer leaky parts tae cart?

  All hands on deck wis the nurses charge,

  didnae need them aw fur the damage wisnae large.

  A new tube here an’ a wee tap screw,

  an’ Peters wee thingie wis nearly brand new.

  Noo Peter disnae ken aboot this wee write,

  if he did he wid call me a daft auld kite.

  But whay could pass up aw this ammunition,

  fur a poem tae write aboot Peter’s condition.

  If Peter finds oot aboot this wee write somehow,

  An’ am stull alive a’ll tak a bow.

  But you folks oot there dinnae say a wurd,

  an’ Peter wull no ken aboot leaky poems ‘absurd’.

  Monday 19 November 2012

  Winter Shadows

  Jean Bundesen

  Woodford, NSW

  Bright yellow sunshine throws

  Slender summer shadows

  Loping across my back yard.

  It’s a warm pleasant picture

  Luring my friends and I outside

  To have tea on the patio.

 

  But

 

  Summer’s alluring shadows

  Are gone – replaced by bleak

  Cold frosty winter shadows.

  Still with contrasting light and shade

  But the sun has lost its warmth.

  To enjoy it you must rug up.

  Western sky bush-fire red

  Darkness settles mantle like

  As day dissolved into night

  Full moon rises – floating …

  A golden gondola.

 

  Creating pools of light

  Cool soft shadows … while

  Ghostly shadows of ink black trees

  Cast on the road

  Appear to have substance

 

  It’s a cold night

  Time to pull up my anchor

  My warm bed beckons

  I drift off to sleep.

  Monday 19 November 2012 4 pm

  Every Golfer’s Treasure

  Toni Paton

  Blackheath, NSW

  I am accused of being aloof –

  Of having a mind of my own.

  Alas, only go where directed,

  Take the path that I am shown.

  I was created for pleasure they say,

  To make human kind feel good,

  For them to relax and enjoy,

  Hitting me, with an iron or wood.

 

  The game that’s played is a challenge,

  Each time one enters the course.

  I’m needed, I’m there, I am happy,

  To play around, do my bit, of course.

  My most redeeming features are,

  My DIMPLES, of which I am covered.

  Worn with pride, envied by humans,

  My secret, they’ve not discovered.

  Gather your friends, play a round with me,

  Let’s relax and all have fun.

  When you take up the game of golf –

  Your adventure has just begun!

  Tuesday 20 November 2012

  Cockie

  Sallie Ramsay

  Torrens, ACT