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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
Copyright ©
Paul Warren
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