TED

Ted was Julie's Uncle,sadly 26/5/05 Ted passed away after a long illness.Ted was a very much loved grandfather,father,husband and friend to many people.We worked it out one night, that possibly during Teds years in The Merchant Navy he may have been on the ship that rescued my Dad during the war.He came from the Isle Of Man and he had fond memories of the place.I only knew Ted for 5 years,but in that time grew to love him and enjoy his company.I'll miss him as will all that knew him,especially his Dark Haired Angel.

AND,I AWAKE ONCE MORE.

MY DARK HAIRED ANGEL,
SHE'S STILL THERE,
"SHHHH-SHHHHHHH
ITS O.K"SHE SAID,AS SHE STROKES MY HAIR.

AND I DRIFT ONCE MORE,
TO THE FIELDS SO GREEN,
THE FIELDS,MORE GREEN
THAN THEY'VE EVER BEEN.
I KNOW,AS A CHILD
I'VE BEEN HERE BEFORE
AS THE TRAIN TRAVELS DOWN
FROM THE HILLS TO THE SHORE.

AND I AWAKE,I AWAKE ONCE MORE.

MY DARK HAIRED ANGEL,
SHE'S STILL HERE
"WE LOVE YOU" THEY SAY
OTHER ANGELS ARE NEAR.

AND I DRIFT ONCE MORE,
BACK TO DAYS ON THE SEAS.
NO WAR ANYMORE,
ITS TRANQUIL,ITS PEACE.
AND,AS I SAIL ON THE OCEAN
A MESSAGE "HE" SENDS
THAT THE CREW IS MADE UP
OF LOST FAMILY AND FRIENDS.

AND I AWAKE,WHY,DO I AWAKE ONCE MORE?

AND MY DARK HAIRED ANGEL,
YET,SHE'S STILL THERE.
"I LOVE YOU" I TELL HER,
WE BOTH SHED A TEAR.

ITS THE LAST TIME I'LL DRIFT
NOW I'VE SEEN WHAT I SAW,
AND,THE PAIN HAS ALL GONE,
I'M NOT SCARED ANYMORE.
I LOVE ALL I'VE LEFT,AND I ALWAYS WILL,
AND,I'LL BE KEEPING AN EYE,
FROM MY SEAT ON THE HILL.
AND TO MY DARK HAIRED ANGEL,
WHO TENDED ME TRUE,
UNTIL YOU ARE READY,
I'LL WAIT HERE FOR YOU.

"BATHIE TIME BABY"

This,is a poem I wrote a few years ago ,when my daughter Kelly got her first Maltese Terrier pup named "Twopence". Julie and I now have a new one called "Lu Lu".Lu Lu ,like Twopence hates her bath.and I don't blame her really,I mean,you and I decide when we want to have a bath,we also decide if we should have a hot bath,or a cold bath.The poor bloody dog gets its bath when we decide,it may have been totally inconvenient at that time,also if it was going to have a bath,I'm sure it would not have had it hot enough to cook it.or cold enough to freeze its balls off.This story is written,on behalf of the dog.

"OH-OH,HERE SHE COMES,
ITS THAT TIME OF THE WEEK.
SHAMPOOS OUT,THE BATH IS RUN,
SHE'S READY--SO TO SPEAK.
I'M NOT REALLY VERY DIRTY,
AND THERES NOT TO BAD A SMELL.
I'M COMFY BY THE FIRE HERE,
ITS NICE AND WARM AS WELL.
SHE CAN'T BE SERIOUS,SO
I THINK I'LL HAVE A DOZE.
AND THEN I HEAR HER SAY OUT LOUD
"THAT PUPPYS ON THE NOSE"
CHRIST,ITS TEN O'CLOCK AT NIGHT,
GIVE A LITTLE DOG SOME PEACE,
ITS NOT AS IF A LITTLE SMELL,
COULD SPREAD SOME GREAT DISEASE.
OH WELL,HERE I GO
MUST DO AS I'M TOLD
FIRST I'LL DIP MY TOESIES IN
SHIT! ITS BLOODY COLD.

SO HERE I SIT,A REAL BURKE,
SOAKED,I'M WET ALL OVER
I'LL GET HER SOON,I'LL HAVE A SHAKE
"YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ROVER,
WATCH WHAT YOU'RE DOING WITH THAT COMB"
I KNOW THE NEXT SURPRISE,
SHE'LL COVER ME WITH SHAMPOO
"OUCH ! ITS IN ME EYES"
QUICK,SOMEBODY GET A TOWEL,
I'VE HAD A BLOODY NOUGH.
BUT YOU,YOU IDIOT,YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND
TO YOU ITS "WOOF WOOF WOOF"

SO,WE'RE BACK RIGHT WHERE WE STARTED,
IN FRONT OF OPEN FIRE.
PERHAPS NOW I'LL GET SOME PEACE.
OH NO,HERE COMES THE DRYER.
AS IF I HAVEN'T HAD ENOUGH,
"NOW LISTEN MADAM,SIR
PUT THAT BLOOMING THING AWAY,
YOU'LL BLOW OFF HALF ME FUR."
STILL,SHE WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE.
YET,SHE MAKES A FUSS,
"WE'LL HAVE TO GET THE KNOTTIES OUT"
OH SHIT HERE COMES THE BRUSH.
TUG TUG,PULL PULL,
GROOMING,THIS IS CALLED.
IF SHE PULLS MUCH MORE OF ME OUT,
I'M GOING TO END UP BALD.

OH WELL,BATTLES OVER,
PEACE AND QUIET AT LAST.
NEXT TIME I HEAR THAT WATER RUN,
I'M NICKING OFF REAL FAST.
NO WAY WILL THEY FIND ME,
I'LL HIDE UNDER A LOG.
TILL THEY LEARN,WHATS GOOD FOR PEOPLE,
IS LIVING HELL FOR DOGS.

IN SEARCH OF KITTY'S KIN(post natal depression)

In years gone by,if a lady suffered from post natal depression,chances are she was regarded as mad,and locked up.The subject of my poem is Katherine (Kitty) Miller.She was born in London around the year 1900,she came to Australia in 1910,married George Miller and had children.George died in 1920,two years after he had admitted Kitty to hospital suffering from "the madness" Total contact was lost with any other living relatives she had,and Kitty spent her remaining years in an Institution called "Bloomfield" in Orange (country New South Wales Australia) She spent over seventy years in this institution.Today we fix this problem with council and medication,not so in the past.

IN SILENCE,SHE SITS BY THE WINDOW.
FRAIL,CONFINED TO A CHAIR.
THINKING OF ,WHO CAN TELL,OR WHAT,
AS SHE HAS FOR MANY A YEAR.
GRIEF AT DEATH,WAS HER LAST,AND ONE SIN,
NOW AUSTRALIA SEARCHES,FOR HER NEXT OF KIN.

HER BABY HAD DIED,SHE'D TRIED TO BE BRAVE.
BUT EMOTIONS TOOK HOLD,WHEN,SHE SAW THE SMALL GRAVE.
DID SHE SEE WHAT SHE SAW?
"NO" THEY SAY ,WAS ILLUSION,
THEN REGARDLESS OF FACT,
WAS CONFINED,TO SECLUSION.
A LIFETIME AGO,YES THREE SCORE AND TEN,
COMMITED INSANE,BY THE STROKE OF A PEN.

THEY,KITTY'S LIFE WASTED,JUDGED MENTALLY ILL
BY SYMPTOM NOW FIXED,BY A SMALL YELLOW PILL.
IN SECRET FROM FAMILY,
HER HUSBAND,SHAME HIDES.
THEN HE,THE ONLY ONE KNOWING
TRAGICALLY DIES.
THE LONELY YEARS ROLL,JUST MORE FOLLOWS SAME.
WAITING FOR SOMEONE,BUT,NOBODY CAME.

NOW KITTY IS OLD,A CENTURY ON,
HER HOSPITAL FRIENDS SEARCH FOR RELATIVES, GONE.
WHERE ARE THEY NOW ?
ARE THEY SEARCHING IN VAIN?
IS THERE ANYONE KNOWINGLY BARES KITTY'S NAME?
IN SILENCE,SHE SITS BY THE WINDOW,
FRAIL,CONFINED TO A CHAIR.
HER EYES,HOLD THE TEARS,AS THEY HAVE DONE FOR YEARS
IS THERE SOMEONE THAT LOVES HER OUT THERE ?

MY WIFE

I love my wife very much,and I've gone to length to explain this before,And whilst she is the "perfect wife",she has her faults(as do we all).She smokes,she sometimes blows wind and blames the dog,and speaking of the dog,she always seems to avoid picking up its mess.But there is one more---fault

THE WIND KISSED THE LIPS
OF THE LEAVES ON THE TREE
AS THEY FLUTTERED ON HIGH
IN THE BREEZE.
THE CRASH OF THE WAVES
THROUGH THE MIDNIGHT HAZE
AS THEY BREAK ON THE SAND
OF THE SHORE.

THE HOOT OF THE OWL
THE NEXTDOOR DOG HOWL
AND THE NOISE THAT MAKE
ANGELS TAKE FLIGHT.
LIKE THE CREAK OF THE FLOOR
AS YOU WALK THROUGH THE DOOR
OF THE HOUSE,
IN THE MIDST OF THE NIGHT.

I COULD TAKE ALL THIS RACKET,
LYING SNUG IN MY PACKET,
WHERE I'D STAY IN THE WARMTH
TILL THE MORN.
BUT,INSTEAD IN MY HEAD
ALL I HEAR IN MY BED
IS THE SOUND
OF MY LOVELLY WIFE SNORIN'

HAVE YOU YET TRIED TO MUFFLE,
A PIG SEEKING TRUFFLE?
OR DOGS FIGHTING OVER A BONE ?
SHE MAKES SUCH A DIN,
THAT I USUALLY GIVE IN
AND FIND THE SPARE BED,
----- ON MY OWN.

LADY ASH OF LEIGH

GOD FORBID, IN DAYS GONE BY THAT A CATHOLIC BOY WOULD BRING HOME A PROTESTANT GIRL,THAT A JEW WOULD BRING HOME A MUSLIM.THAT A CELTIC BOY WOULD BRING HOME A GIRL WHO'S DAD WENT FOR RANGERS.IN THE WEST OF SYDNEY ITS RUGBY LEAGUE WE PLAY.MY COUSIN-IN-LAW AND I,ARE THIRTY ODD YEAR SUPPORTERS OF THE MIGHTY PARRAMATTA EELS.PETE'S DAUGHTER IS ACTUALLY ONE OF THE CHEERLEADERS FOR THE EELS.OTHER STRANGE PEOPLE IN THE WEST OF SYDNEY GO FOR THE PENRITH PANTHERS,MOST OF THEM ARE DEMENTED PEOPLE,THE KIND OF PEOPLE THAT WEAR PITT BULL TERRIERS AROUND THEIR NECKS FOR DECORATION AND CUDDLE THEIR OWN RELATIVES--NEVER MIND EACH TO THEIR OWN--BUT WHAT HAPPENED ? THIS VERY EDUCATED,ATTRACTIVE,UNTIL NOW VERY SENSIBLE GIRL---STARTED GOING OUT WITH A BLOODY PANTHER SUPPORTER.---GOD KNOWS WHAT THEIR CHILDREN MAY TURN OUT LIKE.PETE(WHO WAS A COP UNTIL HE FOUND OUT IT WAS BETTER PAY AND LESS DANGEROUS TO SIT IN AN OFFICE)MUST BE A VERY ,VERY SAD MAN,HE DOESN'T TALK ABOUT IT,HE SMILES-BUT I KNOW!

HIGH.IN THE TOWER
MIDST GLENMORE FOREST,
SITS LADY ASH OF LEIGH.
FOR SHE HAD BEEN A COURTING
A PENRITH LAD, YOU SEE?
SIR BENALOT,A HANDSOME YOUTH
(THOUGH DON'T HAVE MUCH UP TOP)
HAD SNUCK HER OUT THE BACKDOOR
TO AVOID"THE BALDING COP".

FOR THE WICKED,BALDING EX-COP
HAD FORBIDDEN THEY SHOULD MEET,
AND HE HAD CAUGHT THEM SNOGGING
IN THE BUSHES DOWN THE STREET.
"BUGGER OFF YOU LITTLE BASTARD,
SHE'S FOR A MAN OF CLASS,
AND IF I CATCH YOU SNIFFING HERE AGAIN,
I'LL KICK YOU UP THE ARSE."

HEARTBROKEN,SHE SITS IN THE TOWER,
FOR THE MAN SHE LOVED,SHE WAITED
"SIR BENALOT OF PENRITH"
THE MAN HER FATHER HATED.
"PRAY DADDY,TELL ME DADDY
WHY DO YOU HATE HIM SO?
WHY DID YOU TELL HIM BUGGER OFF?
DADDY,WHERE DID BENALOT GO?"

AND THE WICKED,BALDING EX-COP
LOOKED ASH OF LEIGH IN EYE.
A TEAR WAS ROLLING DOWN HIS CHEEK
"DADDY,WHY DO YOU CRY?"
"I HAD TO DO THE THINGS I DID,
THOUGH YOUR LOVE FOR HIM WAS REAL,
HE'S A BLOODY PANTHER,
YOU?-- YOU WERE BORN AN EEL!"

THE BATTLE OF SOUTH CREEK

This is a story from a friend of mine.John Tebbutt has lived his whole life in Windsor New Soth Wales,in fact being now in his mid 60's has always lived on the same rural property,formerly a vegetable crop farm,now a turf farm.He of course grew up there. It would have been a fantastic place to grow up.South Creek runs through the property and you can imagine the fun kids would have with home made rafts,tree swings and battles that would have been fought between local gangs of boys.So here is my poetic version of Johns story.

IN THE DAYS WHEN ROY RODGERS WAS HERO.
FIFTY OR SO SUMMERS GONE BY
TOOK PLACE"THE BATTLE OF SOUTH CREEK"
WHEN CAME TO WINDSOR -THIS GUY.
THERE WAS TEBBO,CAMAK AND HINCHEY,
AND THE OTHER A MULLINGER KID
OH,AND OF COURSE OUR HERO FROM MELBOURNE,
AND I'LL TELL YOU JUST WHAT HE DID

THE GANG WERE HOLED UP,IN A BARN BY THE CREEK,
DAYS GONE BY,AN OLD MILKING SHED.
BUT BOYS BEING BOYS,THEY'D MOVED IN,AND
IT WAS THEIR "FORT APACHE" INSTEAD.
THEY HAD HEARD THE WORD THROUGH THE GRAPEVINE
THAT THEY HAD BETTER BE ON THEIR JOB,
"FORT APACHE"WAS BEING INVADED BY,
DOOLEY MAYNE AND HIS SOUTH WINDSOR MOB.

THEY DIDN'T EVEN SEE DOOLEY COMING.
BY CANOE,THEY'D CREAPT UP STREAM.
"INJUNS-INJUNS" CRIED OUT HINCHEY,
AS HE LET OUT A BLOOD CURDLING SCREAM.
TO THE FORT THEY RAN FOR THEIR SAFETY,
MUD GRANADES FLY AS THEY RUN
BUT THEIR DOMAIN WAS SOON TAKEN OVER
OUT NUMBERED BY TWENTY TO ONE.

TO THE OAK TREE THEY FLED,AS THEY MADE THEIR RETREAT
AND TOOK STOCK OF THEIR LOSSES AND GAIN
OF FIVE OF THEM THAT STARTED OUT
ONLY FOUR OF THEM NOW REMAIN.
"WHERE'S BLAKELY ?" CRIED THE MULLINGER KID
DID HE FALL IN THE BATTLE,OR FLEE?"
"I DON'T KNOW" SAID CAMAK AND HINCHEY
"WE WERE RUNNING TO FAST TO SEE"

LIKE ANZACS.THEY FOUGHT ON IN VALOUR.
BUT LIKE CUSTER,THEIR EFFORTS WERE LOST.
MUD GRENADES WERE FAST RUNNING OUT,
AND ALREADY A MAN IT HAD COST.
"THE BUGLE" (WELL,IT SOUNDED MORE LIKE A TRACTOR)
ON THE HORIZON.RE-ENFORCEMENTS WERE NEAR.
IT WAS DESERTER BLAKELEY, AND TEBBO'S DAD,
AND DOOLEYS GANG SCATTERED IN FEAR.

AND,WANTING TO PRESS HIS ADVANTAGE
OF HIS VICTORY,WISHING TO GLOAT.
BLAKELY RUNS TO THE WATERS EDGE
AND JUMPS IN DOOLEYS BOAT.
WITH MOBSTER CHASING IN HOT PURSUIT
"GERONIMO" HE CRIED
BLAKELY NOW,WAS SAFE AND SOUND
HE'D REACHED BANK,ON THE OTHER SIDE.

AND FROM SAFE HAVEN,ON THAT BANK
TO HOME WAS BUT SHORT RIDE.
BUT THERE IS JUST ONE BRIDGE IN WINDSOR,
TO CROSS FOR THE OTHER SIDE
AND DOOLEY WOULD BE THERE WAITING
FOR BLAKELEY TO ARRIVE.
WHAT WILL OUR CUNNING HERO DO,
TO AVOID A BUNCH OF FIVE?

THEY EVEN HAD CARS IN THOSE DAYS,
AND THEY HAD HITCH-HIKERS TOO
SO.BLAKELEY-HE STUCK OUT HIS THUMB
(I WOULDN'T PICK HIM UP -WOULD YOU?)
BUT SOMEONE DID."TO WINDSOR PLEASE"
SAID OUR HERO,WITH A SIGH.
AND ON THE BRIDGE STOOD DOOLEY.
BLAKELEY WAVED,AS HE WENT BY.

LORNE,JIM AND HOUND

I've written before about Lorne and Jim the Sheep shearer and his wife who live in Young,Country New South Wales,Australia---I wouldn't be able to stand it myself,but they are among the millions of people on this planet,that allow their pet dogs to sleep with them,I think the only plus would be,that you can fart,and always have the dog to blame.Their dogs name was Cujo,and this is their poem.

JIM SAID "GOODNIGHT,I'M OFF TO BED,
I'M TIRED,AND CAN'T STOP YAWNING,
I'VE HAD ENOUGH FOR ONE DAY,
I'LL SEE YOU IN THE MORNING"
HE WANDERED DOWN THE HALLWAY
WITH SLEEPING ON HIS MIND,
THEN THE PATTER OF LITTLE FEET.
"JIM,THE CREATURE'S RIGHT BEHIND".

"C'MON YOU MONGREL THING,
HURRY UP AND DON'T BE SLOW,
I'LL LET YOU OUT TO HAVE A LEAK,
THEN ITS OFF TO BED WE GO".
THE CREATURE DID,WHAT HE HAD TO DO,
AND JIM CLIMBED IN HIS BED.
WITH JOBBIES DONE,THE DOG JUMPED IN,
LANDING STRAIGHT ON POOR JIMS HEAD

"GET OFF YOU UGLY CRITTER,
AND GIVE A MAN SOME PEACE,
HURRY UP AND SETTLE DOWN,
AND NO MORE SNORING PLEASE.
YOU'LL HAVE MUM HERE IN A MINUTE,
ITS GETTING PRETTY LATE,
MOVE OVER YOU ROTTEN LOUSY THING
OR THE SHED WILL BE YOUR FATE"

LORNIE CAME SOON AFTER
SETTLING DOWN,TURNED OFF THE LIGHT,
AND ALL WERE IN THE LAND OF NOD,
BUT WHAT A NOISY FIGHT.
WITH MUM AND CRITTER SNORING
JIMS TEETH,A GRINDING SOUND.
AND THERE THEY STAYED TILL MORNING
LORNIE ,JIM AND HOUND

THE NEVER ENDING MILE

I SAID TO MY MATE RICHARD THE OTHER DAY.I'D WRITTEN ALL SORTS OF POEMS ABOUT PEOPLE AND ABOUT THINGS,BUT I HAD NEVER WRITTEN ONE FOR JULIE, MY WIFE,AND AS I SAID TO RICHARD,I'D WRITTEN LOVE POEMS IN THE PAST FOR PEOPLE IN WHICH I SPEWED FORTH ALL SORTS OF STUFF,AND NOW THAT I REALLY WANTED TO WRITE ONE FOR JULIE,THE WORDS WOULD ONLY SOUND TRITE.BUT I HAD,I'D WRITTEN THIS A FEW YEARS AGO WHEN LOVE WAS YOUNG,AND MY FEELINGS STILL REMAIN THE SAME.

WALK WITH ME,WALK WITH ME
FOR MORE THAN JUST A WHILE.
TOGETHER,WE WILL SET OUT ON
THE NEVER ENDING MILE.
NOW WE'VE FOUND EACHOTHER
AND KNOW ITS NOT TOO LATE
SOUL MATE- ANAM CARA
ANAM CARA,MY SOUL-MATE.
SO WALK WITH ME,PLEASE,WALK WITH ME
FOREVER AND A WHILE
TOGETHER,LET US SET OUT ON,
THE NEVER ENDING MILE