Sydney Sweeney
looks good in a gown or bikini.
Standing out from the rest,
you can't say she's overdressed.
According to this reporter,
she's a house of brick and mortar.
Sydney my love, Sydney my city
Splendour and majesty, nothing such pretty.
Sydney my love, Sydney my city.
First rays of the sun, spread here fun.
Opera, Harbour Bridge, Blue Mountain.
Pretty pretty places, plenty plenty beauty.
Sydney my love, Sydney my city
Clean clean beaches, green green trees,
Pleasant weather, cool cool breeze.
Kissing the shores, sea waives sporty.
Sydney my heart, Sydney my city
Kangaroo, emu, parrots, cockatoo.
4X fun, taste of barbecue.
Having flora and fauna, folk and fidelity.
Sydney my delight, Sydney my city.
Cheers of beers, music and dance.
Events and sports, friendship and romance.
People enjoy varied leisure activity.
Sydney my crave, Sydney my city.
In habitant's haven, half a hundred hills.
Love surfing thrills, basking when chills.
They toil for growth and prosperity.
Sydney my choice, Sydney my city.
People here thrive in an easy life.
Happy happy children with serene smile.
Over everything, supreme is humanity.
Sydney my pride, Sydney my city.
- S. D. Tiwari
Upon a slope of grease, we see the state police'
Theres a ramp to surrender
Built on the w e f agenda
alienating relations with all on the streets.'
A VERSE FOR SYDNEY
I’ve wrote this little christening verse
For a very special baby boy,
His name is Sydney Stephen
And he’s the family’s pride and joy.
He was born about five months ago
To parents Chris and Stephanie Hall,
He’s got those gorgeous baby blue eyes
And a smile for anyone at all.
And on Sunday May the seventh
Is a very special day you’ll see?
There’s going to be a christening
And the star is baby Sydney.
It’s going to be a grand occasion
Lots of people will be there,
All the family will be coming
As will friends from everywhere.
And then once the day is over
And the people have gone home,
You’ll have this token to remember
It is Sydney’s christening poem.
O little girl, my darling,
You grow too quickly.
You were the golden child,
The lovely Sydney Grace,
Now rushing to be a woman
Long before I am prepared.
How can I keep you small?
But grow you must
And blossom in your time.
That sweet blue-eyed infant
Will live in my heart
Till the end of my days,
And beyond.
Lion Island sleeps like a cub
between Angophora branches.
Scratching among leaf litter, a Superb Lyrebird
drags his regal feathers over ruined castle-rocks.
In the tray of green-silk-water below,
miniature curved triangles sail;
and way down there
Barrenjoey’s lighthouse is as little
as a birthday candle – unlit.
West Head is surreal:
a giant-realm in balloon-blue skies.
These tiny, far-off man-made things
tinker at the edges –
not important
it seems.
There we were - Alf and I - Pharaohs,
surveying those white pyramids -
Nests of ibis - ovulating -
Opera.
Across the bridge we danced,
Swaying o'er the waves below -
Spectred lovers on a phantom ship -
Drifting snug into port - oh, so were we.
Yes, There we were - Alf, you - left me,
As you cantered away on your white steed.
I'm diverting - like a white capped copper
By the Circular Quay - away -
From Darling Harbour - rolling -
Onto the Rocks.
Yet, in Neutral Bay,
I - last - heard you say,
You'd be selling me down
At King's Cross.
So bye - my Alfie - it's over -
Just city lights and squalor - for me -
With whisky and history - this old bag lady
Stares dreamily over the sea.
The ancestral shackles I feel - loosening,
Pushed out - by the will to be free.
Tantalising taste on tongue,
whilst savouring a draft beer
heightens but we stop at one,
because we’re not young!
Jorn Utzon received the Pritzker Architecture Prize for his masterpiece
Sydney Opera House is famous the world over, maybe in space too
Her shells are recognizable by millions, even I, who have never been
fabulous place opened in 1973, she hosts visitors from every country
Her performing arts center houses LePetit Ballet, Opera Australia,
There are recording studios, retail shops, cafes, restaurants, pubs
Utzon was one of thirty-two architects to submit a design.
In Kansas City, Missouri, we have created a tiny replica of this beauty.
Poet Philip Sydney
whose poetic were quite free
He wrote in quatrain stanzaics
finding popularity did the trrick
Sydney airport in twenty eleven
On route to help Scots go to heaven
My son Jeremy at six foot two
Cricketer Athlete and rugby man too
Big tough man with sense of humour
Loves whats real and hates wrong rumour
Standing there to wave goodbye
Stares at me and starts to cry
"I love you" is exchanged in tears
"Love you Dad" final words to me
Qantas Flight 1 above Sydney Harbour
Just makes my tears and pain go harder
I'll never forget Sydney twenty eleven
And I know I'll see Jeremy smile in heaven.
Marquise
Cinque linking
Amaranth medallion
Allows a diamond star to form
Immaculate teeth, glace cherry smirk
Swinging on invisible link
Sheriff starlight centre
Spikes squeezed between
Marquise
14th July 2022
Written for Contest; Radical Rictameter
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
In the Opera house
Is a tiny little mouse,
Everybody knows
Of the tiny little mouse,
The tiny little mouse in the
Opera house!
He watches all the shows
Sings all highs and lows,
Everybody knows-
He likes to play banjos,
The tiny little mouse in the
Opera house!!
The tiny little mouse
Is a superstar,
Everybody knows-
He plays pianos
Backing up the shows
In the Opera house !!!
The tiny little mouse
Likes to do a little dance,
Kicking up his feet
Turning up the heat,
Always keeps a beat-
For you to have a seat
In the Opera House !!!!
-15th March 2021-
• young couple, fit male brown hair and glasses with toned blond female taking multiple selfies as ferry leaves Newfoundland
• middle aged blond woman- multiple selfies - all angles
• young tattooed dude chatting to unseen companions while smoking cigarettes
• older balding male looks longingly at vanishing shore
• young blond woman takes a quick selfie and is gone
• family, father red/blond hair and beard holdling young child too short to be seen over railing, wife and daughter appear only briefly
• background conversation, "It's not for me. You have to go through a lot of dirt to find a bit of gold"
• middle aged male, green T-shirt and sunglasses looks only into ferry's vehicles deck
I depart to join my wife and watch dolphins and porpoises from starboard aft of ferry.
See simple Sydney, wherever he go's
He'll show you a trick with fingers and toes
Counting to twenty
If that's not plenty
Make it twenty one, cross eyed on his nose!
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