Born 13th of October 1923 passed 26th July 2026, what can I put about Reg and
His mates? Heroes by any standard they
Forged their fate, in blood and mud, against maleria and dengu fever, they
Stood this test against 16000, Japs.!
all frontliners Imperials;
Then, yet our ( part time soldiers ) had at them, boy these
Were real men! Just 77 they took sone hits
Their biggest weapon a mortar pipe, yet
on with it.' The Jaos small mountain cannons unleashed many a barrage, these real
ANZAC fighters contested every yard..
Each foot they gave, the enemy paid, their
Owen guns rattling, All Aussie homemade
Some fired and ran into enemy lines
Even throwing grenades at the same
Time..Holding on till re-inforcements
All four hundred and eighty' came, then
they counter-attacked.' And
Pushed on through the pain, the enemy retreating
( was God on their side.?) I am inclined to
So venture.? That He heloed turn the tide
They saved Australia and maybe even the
West.? I salute Reg and his mates these were the best of our best.'
Big yellow digger scoops
the ground,
Moves the heavy dirt
around,
Makes a loud and rumbling
sound!
dog’s hole gets bigger and bigger
I was sitting right next to this digger
until clumps of dirt flew my way
I removed myself from the fray
my dog has his face in the hole he made
a cavern in full sun, not a bit of shade
this is his favorite way to get a bit of cool
strange that it likes this better than his pool
Can't get you to understand.
I already know your kind.
You're really blind.
Maybe, a sign,
to you, will be given.
To make you change,
your way of living.
I'm through with always giving.
It's only your grave,
that you're digging.
By the time I get outside my dogs have disappeared
I do some violent tapping with my ink pen against a chair
Beau, the baby, comes running back to see what it is
He licks my knees; he always licks my knees
I am relieved, knowing he is not digging under the neighbor’s fence
Beau is an avid digger
He has dug holes all over the yard
I am sure the gophers have all disappeared
“If you put a really small value upon yourself, rest assured that the world will not raise your price." --Anonymous
Hi heels equals low feels
They can be uncomfortable
So what’s the deal
Bad in the long run
For your hazel health
Do you wear for them or for yourself
Painted face masking you
Dare I ask
What you trying to prove
Do you feel better
Hiding your truth
Will you ever
Know that beauty is the real you
Wigs and weave
The new standard today
Hopefully
You know you are great
Not saying
It’s ok to hate
Just saying authenticity celebrate
For you dudes
Maybe you feel it too
Judgement cloud over you
Maybe you are short
Or you feel behooved
When you court as the real you
If she is a lot lizard
Or she sins as gold digger
You too must know your worth
Saying no to her doesn’t make you a jerk
To yourself
Please be true
Grow in health
To love authentic you
“Please, Sam stop!”
“Why? Stan, Nope”
“Yes, Sam Stop”
“And just mope?”
“Your shovel drop”
“You can’t cope?”
“Soon shall hop”
“Means: no hope!”
“Means: You Look”
“A wound-Gosh!”
“Marks just took”
“All for dosh…”
“Now, I bleed”
“The grave feed
“Bad Grave - sure
“And wage poor,”
“Me God save”
“Every slave”
Spit fire and spin honey,
the target-a wealthy man and his money.
She has no other talent that qualifies,
just the sum of what quantifies.
She's got cause and family ties,
under the guise of friendship and lies.
Depending on time to line her pockets,
she waits like a spider to sign the dockets.
The honey it dries,
the old man dies.
It evokes such pain and indifference,
targets of especial sentimental significance".
Discussing the loud scary digger machine
Because it is terrifying their children
Badger takes the helm; he stirs them up
Rabbits and hedgehogs are slow to get hot
Squirrel is hopping around like a maniac, being squirrel.
Blue jay keeps his opinions silent, listening to wren and finch.
Poppies, wild rose and daisy keep their opinions for later.
A beckoning hurt hand
Something to understand
And then try to withstand
Or, else, vacate one’s stand…
‘’See, I’m badly bleeding,
My ignorance pleading,
That it be told the truth
And nothing but whole truth
About this grave of Ruth!
That had caused Frank a tooth!
‘’Does grave wish to be dug?
We could off the stuff shrug,
I leave with what I have
Cleanly sure I won’t starve!
Soon, a self-pitying head
Wanting pillow and bed,
Not Greg’s guiltless bloodshed….
Greg, who shall next week wed.
You got me but you failed to see me
For you were looking for a jewel
In my thoughts I shined brightly
But you were digging for a well
You broke my heart in two
And made my spirit wander
You didn't see how much I love you
You only cared for your plunder
Don't you blame me if you fell
In a pitfall filed with trash
For my love for you was real
But you wanted more of cash
October 20, 2022, 1:33 AM (PT)
Don’t dare be A Gold Digger,
Who pays like A
Never one's treasures near
While permitting no fear.
Never either bestride a farm
That didn’t weary your arm
Nor try to closer go
To any of its inviting row,
For one should not at all experience charm
Of what didn’t occasion one harm:
To never dare reap
What didn’t for you grow
Not amass in a heap
What another did sow
Many a gold digger has ended like a fowl
And very few felt they should wear a scowl.
A wealthy old man in his fifties,
Loved a young girl he thought was just nifty.
His friends didn't like her.
They called her a piker.
But the old man said she was just spiffy.
He wished to marry the fraulein.
Asked his friends, "Do you think she'll be mine?"
I have plenty of money,
And she's such a honey.
Oh sure! Tell her you're 99.
I stopped looking up at him standing so tall
And I wondered how they stood to the end of it all
When it was mud and blood that ruled the day
And the cannon and machine guns held sway
I felt I could see them standing watching me
Laconically leaning on the wall now carefree
For they had paid a price so cruel
For us Lest we Forget the rule
He looks across the fields at Bullecourt
Standing forever eyes toward the foe as his reward
So if you venture to the Western Front way
Go and say from us all Good-aye.
© Paul Warren Poetry
I smiled invitingly, the screen
Revealed woman of my ideal
Russian silk beauty, pure, unseen
Pillow lips, brush eyelash appeal
I said I could serve her well, my earnings
Would purchase nicest things of her yearnings
I'll fly her here, get her spousal visa
Her eyes alight, replied, "Sure... I'm Leeza"
" I need a man on good money"
I smiled, " Two fifty salary"
Her sqint, " Oh, it is that each month?"
Sense shrieked above smooth aesthetic
Her theme clearly spelt pretentious
- Need to switch her off, tremendous
2nd September 2020
Written for Contest: Charronet
Sponsor: Charles Messina
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