In memory of my father who liked it as described.

 

Tea's Made.

Toast will be a little longer,

Burnt dark brown or even stronger,

Turned to charcoal like as not,

For Gawd's sake butter it while it's hot.

____________________________

 

In ironic response to an ABC call for poems about cricket to be included in the ABC Cricket Book

 

Underarm.

I went t' put the wireless on,

But then I changed me mind,

'Cos all the stations would 'ave sport,

I knew thats wot I'd find.

 

And of all the bloody 'opeless sports,

There's one that takes the ticket,

That flamin', borin', useless game,

The one that they call cricket.

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In response to an ABC call for poems on Mother's Day

 

In Memorium

When I was just a callow kid,

You wouldn't believe the things I did,

But worst of all (I was so dumb),

I'd scream and shout "I hate you Mum".

 

But now that I am old and sere,

I wish she was around to hear,

The thought to which I've slowly come

"Beneath it all I loved you Mum."