Best Halliwell Poems
Dorry's Ridge
Frank Halliwell
In the fading days of summer; in the early afternoon,
We climbed the path that winds to Dorry's Ridge..
Where the crispness of the autumn air fortold a snowfall soon
On the rolling hills beyond the Springtown Bridge.
See the reds and golden yellows of the woods up on the hill
Where the maples stood all summer dressed in green.
Can you feel the breath of winter in the early evening chill
With the north wind stealing down the lake unseen?
Does a sense of wonder fill you, when the wild geese fill the sky
As they start their yearly journey to the south..
And the strung-out chains of emigrants call loudly as they fly
Past the rocky point down by the river's mouth..
And when once more it's silent, and our world is still again,
And our geese have disappeared beyond our view,
I'll lead you down the ridge, along the pathway from our glen,
And wander back along the lake with you.
On Dorry's Ridge the snow lies deep, and up along the hill..
The maples stand forlorn; their branches bare.
The lake lies deep beneath the ice; caught tight in winter's chill
The fox is sleeping soundly in her lair.
But one day soon the spring will come, the land will blossom then,
And life will wake again, as nature planned.
We'll climb the long path to the ridge, returning to our glen,
And watch the geese returning, hand in hand..
o0o
The Mechanic
Frank Halliwell
Sam was a gynecologist,
But he'd done his last swab,
For after ten long years, he had
Grown weary of the job.
So he took down his diploma,
And the shingle off the door,
To seek a new horizon for
His talents to explore.
Now trees and shrubs were not his style
He'd shun those jobs botanic,
But wheels and gears might be the thing
..He'd be a car mechanic!
So off he went to take a course
To learn how someone solves
Why cylinders go up and down
While gears and wheels revolve.
He graduated at the top,
The hero of his class.
His marks were of the highest
Any student had amassed!
To-morrow was the 'practical',
The very final test,
And each and every student
Would be straining for his best.
An automotive engine was
Spread out along the floor
And he had just a single hour
To make that engine roar!
Sam was the last to take the test,
The head judge waved okay..
A wrench was slapped into his hand..
The test was underway.
His fingers moved at blinding speed,
His moves precise and neat.
And long before the closing bell
The engine was complete.
He nodded it was ready and
A judge switched on the key.
The engine roared without a miss
..Sam was the top trainee!
He was awarded record points
The reasons obvious!
When asked about those record points
The coach explained it thus:
'I've never seen a job so slick,
Without one washer lost,
...Or seen an engine rebuilding
Performed through the exhaust..!
***
Thoughts on Citizenship day.
Frank Halliwell
Can you hear the trumpet fanfare?
And the crowd shouting "hooray"?
Cause they're making me a citizen
Down at the hall today!
Who will make the presentation?
Will it really be the ones
Who have the greatest claim on it,
Or those who had the guns...
To wrest it from those peaceful blacks
Who owned this ancient land
To make a place for criminals,
...The thief and the brigand!
But I'll front up for the paper
And attend the little bash
While the pollies in Canberra
Dip their fingers in the cash...
...And fly around the country
Visiting ficticious joints
While the Australian taxpayer
Funds their "frequent flyer" points!
"Matilda" always stirs my soul
A song without compare!
But I have reservations on
"Advance Australia where?"
But I love this land of blue skies
And I have for decades past,
And when the dealer calls my hand
It's here I'll breathe my last...
Where sparkling diamonds fill the night
And nothing dulls the gloss,
Of paradise in southern seas
Beneath the southern cross!
****
The Soil Expert
Frank Halliwell
She strides across the paddock,
steely purpose in her eyes,
Surveying likely spots
with the detachment of the wise.
The coming decision will surely be
the most vital of the day,
No mundane things will be allowed
to stand in nature's way.
She approaches her task as one possessed
Of total dedication,
Aware of responsibility
for the future of the nation.
There can be nothing casual
In this meticulous inspection,
To gather relevant data
for the soil content correction.
'This seems the correct size and shape,
and texture, scent and feel.
I'll give this bit a little nudge,
to make sure that it's real.
I'd say it needs a trifle more,
just up there to the right,
And maybe to the east a bit,
but I'll do that to-night'.
The barren soil awaits renewal,
quiet, unafraid.
At last, she takes three steps ahead
with the decision made,
And with her tail held high and straight,
in somber salutation,
she makes todays deposit
to the rebirth of the nation.
And then, and only then,
her patriotic duty done.
She returns to join the other donkeys,
grazing in the sun.
***
Joe black Cat
black as the night,
gone in flight,
when you turn he isnt there,
locks dont hold,
the black im told,,
has buggered off orright,
brown snakes do run in fright,
cos the black he isn’t there,
and Halliwell tears his hair,
as Joe bestalks the night….
Don
Take yer eyes off Joe and he's gone, tangled with a few deadly Brown snakes already,
wheres the antivennine hey.....
LORIKEET IS the owner of the black kitty
The Customer
Frank Halliwell
'Good morning! Thanks for calling us!
We're pleased to hear from you!
Your call's important to us
So we've placed you in a queue.
Please find your account number and
Be sure it is correct..
It's twenty digits long and if you
Mis-type, I'll reject.
I'll lead you through the whole routine
Please use your touch type phone.
Press eight and follow with the hash
After you hear the tone.
If you are a new client here..
Press two, ..if old, press three.
Press four in case we've done something
With which you disagree!
You have pressed four, please wait a moment
While I transfer you..
And please enjoy, while we play you
A symphony or two!
Our staff are all too busy now
To talk to such as you
Your call is so important that
We've placed you in a queue.'
Time passes and the music lingers
On, and bye and bye..
My cheek and ear go fast asleep,
My wrist gets R.S.I.
But wait! It may be there is hope!
I hear a ringing sound,
At last a human voice is heard
After the runaround!
'Good morning, this is Ladies wear
And may we help somehow?
Complaints? .. Oh! Just hang on a tick
I'll transfer you right now! ...'
***
'Good morning! Thanks for calling us!
We're pleased to hear from you!
Your call's important to us
So we've placed you in a queue.
***
Canadian Winter
Frank Halliwell
At dawn you hear the crackle
As the sap in frozen trees
Splits the tree trunks like a gunshot
Down below fifty degrees.
And the crying of the kee birds
As they circle in the sky,
In ever smaller circles
'Til they vanish bye and bye-
Up their fundamental orifices,
Or so the story's told,
In their fruitless desperation
To escape the awful cold.
Turn on the car's ignition
And all it does is groan!
You forgot to plug the car in,
And the motor's turned to stone.
But the sun on newly fallen
Snow's a magic fairyland,
And windows all display the art
Of Jack Frost's gifted hand.
There must be other places
Where the weather's more perverse,
And the moment that I think of one
I'll write another verse.
***
LEST WE FORGET!
KOSOVO
Frank Halliwell
You must give us all your money. You must leave your home and land.
If you're not gone in five minutes, we will kill you where you stand.
Women go and take your children, but the men must remain here.
...So they gather up their children, and depart in deadly fear!
Fleeing from barbaric terror toward a future dim and bleak.
Tramp the widows and their children, and the tired, old, and weak.
Through the lonely empty valleys and the passes white with snow
Stream the footsore, cold and weary dispossessed of Kosovo.
Past the shattered shells of houses, and the ruins of others' hopes,
Past the rubble of a village and the smell of acrid smoke.
Toward the border of their country, and perhaps a helping hand,
Toward the hope of their salvation in a friendly foreign land.
Who could watch without compassion as this tragedy unfolds
Untold thousands on the borders cower in the rain and cold.
Down the road that leads from Kosovo, they come in endless streams,
People stripped of human dignity, possessions and their dreams.
A woman moans in labour, her distress is ill-concealed
With her baby's life beginning in a wet and rainy field!
No place dry to place the infant, no place warm for there's no fire.
Nothing dry in which to wrap her in this field of mud and mire.
Here a Serb and there a Muslim, they have shared these lands for years.
Each in turn has been the victim, each in turn has known the fears...
If you stood them up before you they would look about the same,
But each man detests the other, for their gods have different names.
Two different superstitions of two different deities,
So mindless hate will propagate down through the centuries!
Will justice long delayed seek out the beasts in business suits
And pitiless barbarians who rob and execute?
What will be the final outcome, will the force of arms bestow
A peace to stop the winds of hate that flow through Kosovo?
***
THE MONSTER
by Frank Halliwell
Jimboomba, Australia.
Public Domain.
In the northwest foothills of the mount
That's known as Tamborine,
When the evening mists swirl up
In a surrealistic scene,
The landscape writhes beneath the moon
And black-lined, scudding clouds,
And in the swamps, the tea-trees
Wear their foggy, dripping shrouds.
When the purple shadows lengthen
On the flanks of Tamborine,
And the bleak wind wails in lonely gums,
Then races on unseen,,,
The somber ribbet of the frogs,
The music of the night,
And suddenly a hunting owl
Glides by in silent flight.
Amid the high-pitched cricket sounds..
The lowing of a cow..
A hint of sound just past that dam,
The frogs fall silent now..
And even the cicadas cease
As if in deadly fear...
The world stands still...
There's not a sound..
A silence
you can
hear.
And then, a sobbing, strangled cry,
like someone sorely maimed..
The monster then, has struck again,
Another victim claimed.
It prowls around Maclean's bridge,
Verses dripping from it's jaws.
The locals live in terror
Of that huge voracious maw.
For years he's fed it bits of rhyme,
To whet it's appetite,
Then loosed it on a trusting world,
One dark and dreadful night.
The populace has vanished,
From this land of brave, bold men..
For Johnson's rhyming monster
Is upon the land again !!!
Dedicated to Don Johnson, of Nash road who must bear much of the responsibility for inflicting the monster on the world.
Daybreak 2
Frank Halliwell
At first light every morning
And before dusk every night,
All looking for a handout,
And quite sure they'll find a bite.
Of suet and some birdseed
And some honeyed water too,
And the feast is laid on
Every day at Uncle Frankie's zoo!
Resplendent in their rainbow coats
The Lorikeets appear!
The royalty of this feathered world
To none do they show fear!
Their subjects sit and grumble
Round the fence and in the trees,
And wait noisily for their turn,
And for the crowd to ease.
My cheeky black-backed Magpie
Arrives with her demand!
Self-service isn't good enough,
She must be fed by hand!
So Pussy's dish gets raided
To get a scrap of meat
So cheeky and her bigger mate
Can have a bite to eat!
Two slits of jet in yellow orbs,
A furry ginger coat,
A furtive movement in the grass
Might very well denote..
The cat is out there watching
And would like to try her luck...
A malevelent island in a sea
Of feeding ducks!
Down by the dam, a Spoonbill
Seeks his breakfast round the edge,
Sifting small crustacions
Through the bullrush and the sedge.
And sleek in brown and white
Atop a single rock nearby,
A cormorant preens her feathers
With her wings hung out to dry.
And up behind the aloe patch
With stiff and stately strut
A Royal Ibis pokes and prods
Hunting for god knows what?
I wonder what the day will bring?
It will be no surprise
If it's like all the others here...
Perfect, with sunny skies!
***
Ham vk4pr
In 1988 I got a puter ,
And it was cuter ,
Than a fowling ferret ,
Yes in the month of may.
Me old commodore 64,
I’d fire up for sure,
And hook up a radio,
to talk to Halliwell,
he was vk4ave.
before the net appeared ,
we had paket radio, with ears,
to-way radio, modem,
and a commodore 64,
around the world we’d talk,
morse code of any sought,
and I’d put up poetry to squalk,
with a punch-up on the way:)
Ham radio died,
cos we was supplied,
With instant contact, right away,
Internet arrived,
me valve radio finals tried, (6146 transmitter tubes)
but she lurks in me cupboard now today:)
the RF radiation in the room can light me fluros soon:)
Talkin' Technology Enter Contest [Enter Contest]
Sponsored by: Natalie Fllikkema
Good on you Coach D!
its like dem puters big bad Bob, H
if ya got a use 4 em you can ride dat hog,
bloody txting me fingers cant do the job,
have to keep on a romancin...
bloody cold here heed a lukewarm chic,
on ya mate,
Don
RHYMER FRANK HALLIWELL SENT ME POEM
BY FAMOUS AUSSIE BANJO PATTERSON,
ABOUT A MYSTERIOUS COME BY CHANCE TOWNSHIP,
THAT DON'T EXIST....
to Frank
so come by chance becomes a poem,
for the dreamers of the garden gnomes,
till the witless in their folly,
give up this ghasty dance,
and the sheep do run it terror,
from their romantic advance,
bleating c'mon termorrer,
it's our only Kiwi chance,
begorrah...
(AUSSIE JOKE ABOUT POMS AND SHEEP MAKING KIWIS , New Zealanders)
Don
Ambush
There's a lovely tropic island at the bottom of the map,
It's a paradise on earth except for one small handicap;
We have wallabies and kangaroos to only name a few,
And a gentler crowd is seldom found in any city's zoo.
But there's danger lurking everywhere throughout these tropic isles..
The forests here are full of snakes, the rivers; crocodiles!
There are miles of golden beaches where the crowds don't hesitate,
But just beyond the breakers, swift and hungry shadows wait!
In the land of Oz, downunder, lives a creature greatly feared
Both in quiet rural country and the city he's appeared.
His appearance is deceiving, and he sometimes looks quite strange..
And his colour varies widely right across his tropic range.
You may see him lurk half-hidden near a path or watercourse
Where he waits with endless patience and attacks without remorse!
He may strike your leg from ambush on some dark and moonless night.
And in terror you will recoil, and you may just die of fright!
So you'll rush off to the doctor, sure that it will do no good,
But he'll find no deadly venom, just a bit of splintered wood.
'I think that you'll survive', he says, 'although the leg may ache,
For you have just been bitten by the dreaded Bentstick Snake! '
Frank Halliwell
Triumph
Frank Halliwell
In silence, in the velvet night,
lit by pinpoints of vivid light,
I wander blindly to the south,
immersed in frigid seas.
My age is lost in time's shadows,
..in aeons of primeval snows,
Borne from the Greenland glacier fields,
far from the warm land breeze.
My drift; by currents is maintained;
my course; by fate is preordained,
Before midnight I drift inside..
the busy shipping tracks.
A lookout spots me in the dark,
a radio transmits the spark.
I am reported to the world
and cautious souls react.
But from the east this winter night,
a black colossus steams in sight,
Racing to the west despite
the danger waiting there!
Her goal is shipping dominance,
her high speed fueled by arrogance,
Before the night is over,
the result will be despair.
I wait, and I feel no remorse,
in spite of the collision course,
For I am just a passive player
in this deadly play.
They've seen me now, but much too late,
and there is no escaping fate,
A glancing blow is struck and leaves
her plates in disarray!
My mass absorbs the mighty shock;
my body solid as bedrock.
I shatter not, nor tremble
as the ship glances away.
The icy water rushes in,
filling compartments to the brim.
Fifteen hundred doomed to die
seek refuge in dismay!
But there is none; nowhere to go,
the frigid water is the foe!
The ship is listing badly now;
the end is near at hand!
Lifeboats are lowered with all speed,
but are too few to fill the need.
'Nearer my God to Thee' is heard,
played by the doomed ship's band..
The stern rises above the waves,
then plunges to her watery grave,
A plume of air and flotsam mark
the place of her long dive.
Water too cold to sustain life,
kills them as surely as a knife,
And in a mere ten minutes
none of them are left alive!
The cries and shouts and prayers have ceased,
the sea returns to lonely peace.
The engineering triumph rests
among the crabs and snails.
The news is spread around the world
and flags at half-mast are unfurled,
Fifteen hundred families
are left to weep and wail.
In silence, in the velvet night,
lit by pinpoints of vivid light
I wander blindly to the south
immersed in frigid seas.
My age is lost in time's shadows,
..in aeons of primeval snows,
Borne from the Greenland glacier fields,
far from the warm land breeze.
>>> Titanic is gone.
***
The Kookaburra
Frank Halliwell
They congregate at break of day,
when night is almost done,
for a joyous benediction
to the rising of the sun.
And once again come evening,
when the western sky so bright,
surrenders all it's duties
to the velvet cloak of night.
I'd like someone to explain to me,
before I turn to clay,
'cause I've never heard that cackle
in the middle of the day.
Why they sometimes start at 4 AM
and wake me with a fright,
to join with them, to celebrate
the middle of the night!
o0o