Don Stratford

How can you say you love me?
How can you say you care?
When you never, never show me
That you are prepared to share
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There seems a never ending line
Of verse and rhyming words
From the poets at Poemhunter
They come galloping in herds
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The cursin’ and the swearin’ could be heard for miles around
As the bush mechanic worked and toiled with great gusto and great sound
There were problems with the thing-a-majig and the whatsit gismo failed
And he couldn’t fix the flamin’ thing no matter how he wailed
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The rose is a flower to delight and behold
From its scent to its touch it is natures pure gold
With colours and perfumes for all that they’re worth
To be cherished and nurtured right from their birth
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From the highest of North’s to the depth’s of the South
From the width’s of the East to breadth of the West
My arms wrapped around you to comfort and console
From this day forward to have and to hold
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The way ahead may not be clear
The way ahead should hold no fear
Have an inner peace
Conviction strong
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The old fella was weary, of that you could tell
as he trudged down the highways wheeling push bike with bell,
collecting old cans and bottles from the edge of the road
to take into the bottle ‘o’ and there to un-load
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He sat upon the wooden seat
He sat tall and proud and wise
As he worked his way along the road
Heading up towards the rise
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In days of old where time was gold
Now tears and sorrow fall
Upon the threshold of our doors
Hark! Can you hear the call?
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You can do it in the garden
You can do it in the bar
You can do it at the barbie
You can do it in the car
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At age sixteen I started work - I couldn’t wait - that could be seen.
The need to learn of all new things, I gotta tell you - I was keen.
My first real pay it did arrive, and i-t went just as quick
I’d spent the lot in nothing flat - it almost made me sick.
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In childhood days things they were tough, no money was to spare
We had to grow our fruit and vegies for all of us to share
And when things needed burning, no fancy fire place was there
It was a forty four with holes in it, so the fire could get some air
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There are tears in my eyes
From the loss of my mate
And I think
It will hurt till my end
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Material things
Missing a shield
Who gives a tinkers cuss
Emotional it is
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They crossed the high country
The flats and the plains
In cars, trucks and buses
And even in trains
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A feral ute they claim it is
But it wasn’t always so
It once was clean and shiny
It was new and all the go
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There are songs about Mary
And Becky and Sue
There are songs about Gloria
And Calendar girls too
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A child is born, the world goes on, and the effect creates a ripple
Mothers pride and Fathers joy as the child takes to her nipple
Strong and healthy he does seem with lungs that tell us all
I’m here to stay and have my say even wrapped up in a shawl
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It was the start of something new
The very start of a new home
The dunny budgie will be pleased
Somewhere new for him to roam
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You can hear those blighters coming
You can look hard but cannot see
The small and bitting insects
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