Poetry

To all my friends at POE...Thank you for your concern regarding my wellbeing. My wife, Mary and I are currently in the UK taking a long overdue holiday.  On our return to Oz I will begin chemo possibly on the 3rd. Oct.  I promise to continue with my poetry ASAP. Kind regards to all...will tell of our adventures in due course.

This is typed on my sister-in-law's pc, not  being able to connect with my laptop.

Harry

So glad to hear that you and your wife are enjoying a trip to England. Enjoy every moment of you time, know that we are thinking of you, and will certainly remember you in our prayers and thoughts as you start your Chemo.

To keep Harry's thread warm for his return, here's a poem I wrote for a good friend of mine some time ago. You had to know this bloke to really understand.

He came from out Temora way

And stopped on the coast

Where he wanted to stay

Cos’ he liked fishin’ and swimmin’ and stuff

An unpolished diamond

He was coarse, He was rough.

But most folk liked him

They thought he was great

They called him J.B.

He was my Aussie mate.

He got himself a job at the school

An honest bloke, but nobody;s fool

The headmistress said

That he was too rough

To do this sort of work

And she told him “Enough”

But the kids all loved him

And thought he was great

They all called him J.B.

He was my Ocker mate.

His wife’s name was Sandra

A wonderful Lass

If she saw you walk by

Would not let you pass.

“Come in Pete” she’d say

And have a seat

Grab a drink

Take the load of your feet.

Everyone just thought they were great,

J.B. and Sandra

They were my Aussie mates.

But then they went off

To the big city smoke

I thought he was foolin’

I thought it a joke.

But they had an offer

Of a good job you see

And they were both leavin’

A sad day for me.

But I’ll never forget him

To me he was great

I called him J.B.

He was my best mate.