Warbs On the Wharves

Just a slip of a lad as a probationary constable I walked the beat in Port Adelaide as my fable So up and down St Vincent Street Then onto Commercial Road made it complete At closing time we converged on the Golden Port Tavern To supervise the patrons leaving there was the concern And the Port had its characters who tarried about With VO Invalid port as their usual shout There was Wilfy Taylor the old boxer in his youth Who I saw down a half bottle of port proof And cowboy who we found lying in the sun With his face half sunburnt and was done These old men were from the older times When these men had ties to the Port that would bind As part of the fabric of the area then The local people tolerated these warbs in the end. © Paul Warren Poetry