Put Ourselves To Bed Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Pedro is in the sun pounding away
Wreathes:
The sun that is crenulating the trafficking
Unjulatings of the sea:
And, yes, today don’t we have holidays
To sell underneath a big white and smoky
Tent,
Underneath the pines and the amphibian
Airplane bellies sparkling of the drool
Of birthstones and diamond plants:
They are amphibians because they can both
Crawl along the road,
And then leap for great distances;
And they are many sided carriages right out of
Georgian England,
But never once do they go to Australia to see
What is cooking in botany bay:
They just go leaping, leaping,
Laughing and serving drinks pretty lips sip
From,
Creched and mélanged well above our heads,
As we sell beautiful Christmas trees
And then put ourselves to beds.