901

On May Morning
by John Milton

Now the bright morning Star, Day's harbinger,
Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her
The Flowery May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow Cowslip, and the pale Primrose.
Hail bounteous May that dost inspire
Mirth and youth, and warm desire,
Woods and Groves, are of thy dressing,
Hill and Dale, doth boast thy blessing.
Thus we salute thee with our early Song,
And welcome thee, and wish thee long.

Neighborhood Hymn
Dharam

Espa–ola, beautiful jewel,
Southwestern valley town
On the North Rio Grande;
Memorable roadways,
The High Road to Taos.

"Lowrider Capital of the World":
Showy hydraulic suspensions
Bouncing high, then dropping;
Shimmery bodies, white leather,
New stylistic wire wheels.

Admitted home to gang thefts,
The town honors men, women:
Grandfather myth tellers,
Landlady grandmothers.
A dingy banner says "Mass".

902

RIGHT SAID FRED.
By
Bernard Cribbins

Right said Fred
Both of us together
One each end and steady as we go

Tried to shift it
Couldn't even lift it
We was getting nowhere
And so
We
Had a cup of tea and

Right said Fred
Give a shout to Charlie
Up comes Charlie from the floor below

After straining
Heaving and complaining
We was getting nowhere
And so
We
Had a cup of tea and

Charlie had a think and he thought we ought
To take off all the handles
And the things wot held the candles
But it did no good
Well I never thought it would

Oh
Right said Fred
Have to take the feet off
To get them feet off wouldn't take a mo

Took its feet off
Even took the seat off
Should have got us somewhere but no!
So Fred said let's have another cup of tea
And we said
Right-o

Oh
Right said Fred
Have to take the door off
Need more space to shift the so-and-so

Had bad twinges
Taking off the hinges
And it got us nowhere
And so
We
Had a cup of tea and

Right said Fred
Have to take the wall down
That there wall is gonna have to go

Took the wall down
Even with it all down
We was getting nowhere
And so
We
Had a cup of tea and

Charlie had a think and he said look Fred
I've got a sort of feeling
If we remove the ceiling
With a rope or two
We could drop the blighter through

Oh
Right said Fred
Climbing up a ladder
With his crowbar gave a mighty blow

Was he in trouble
Half a ton of rubble
Landed on the top of his dome!
So Charlie and me had another cup of tea
And then we
Went home

A FALSE GOD OF FAME
The Epic Tale of Fred 'The Shred' Goodwin

Right said Fred,
Got to get ambitious,
Got to build our Banking empire up.

Have to do more
So that we accrue more,
We'll bid low for NatWest,
Then we
Can
Add another Bank.

Ah
Right said Fred
Now we've added NatWest
I've decided that I can be God.

We are rich, ah
And the bigger picture
Is we could be top-dogs,
We have
To
Do another deal ... though

I'm not laughing, now that overstaffing,
Is eroding profits,
I think we ought to stop it,
Ah! Some staff I'll shed,
'Cos I am Fred the Shred!

Ah ...
Right said Fred,
Now we've chopped the deadwood,
How can we continue with the growth? Huh?

Aha! I know!
There's a bank called AMRO;
Do you think an offer's unwise?
But faint heart never won a single thing!
(And so Fred
Did buy).

Ha
Ha! said Fred,
Now we're heading somewhere,
Though there's one thing that we have to do.

Have to shed staff,
Cut them half of one half,
After that, then off we can
Go and
Add
Another Bank.

Ah ...
Right said Fred,
We have to develop,
Have to do another mega-deal.

We are growing,
But the flaws are showing,
Things are getting muddled
And so
We
Have to cut the staff.

Ah, the dirt's hit the fan, and it don't look good,
The situation's global,
They think that it could snowball,
We will offload staff,
Oh ... at least another half.

Oh
Hell! said Fred,
Got to dive for cover,
RBS is going to the dogs.

Feel the tension,
Need to take a pension,
Find a place where I can lie low;
I'll hotfoot off to take up a new career,
And I'll take
The dough!

903

HERE THE SIDEWALK ENDS

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

HOPE FETED

I meditate in green densest wood
Drawn to rest beside a babbling brook,
There flowers drift, nestling thrush perch.
I'd chance listen to hushed morning's stir
When the wet earth wakens fresh, and where
The primrose paths delight men's hearts.

904

[A Scrabble Tiles Anagram Poem]

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Wild Cinquo de Mayo past,
And June zipping in fast,
You exchange gumbo verse,
Like "For better or worse";
I hear a live "I do" at last.

905

AUSSIE RECRUIT'S LETTER HOME.

This is a text of a letter from an excited young army-recruit from Eromanga, to Mum and Dad. (For those of you not in the know, Eromanga is a small town, west of Quilpie in the far south west of Queensland )

Dear Mum and Dad,

I'm very well. Hope youse are very well too. Tell me big brothers Doug and Phil that the Army is better than workin on the farm - tell them to get in bloody quick smart before the jobs are all gone! I wuz a bit slow in settlin in at first, because ya don't have to get outta bed until six in the mornin. But I like sleeping in now, coz all ya gotta do before brekky is make ya bed and polish ya boots and clean off ya uniform. No bloody cows to milk, no calves to feed, no feed to stack - nothin! Ya haz ta have a shower though, but I've decided it's not too bad, coz there's loadsa hot water and even a light so's ya can see what ya's doing!

At brekky ya get the choices of cereals, fruits and eggs but there's no kangaroo steaks or possum stew like Mum makes. Ya don't get fed again until noon and by that time all the pansy city boys are buggered because we've been on a 'route march' - but, jeez it's only like strollin to the old windmill in the back paddock!

Oh, yeah - this one'll kill me brothers Doug and Phil with laughter. I keep gettin bloody medals for shootin - I dunno why.

They reckon I'm good as any top marksman! But the bullseye's as big as a possum's bum and it don't move away and it don't fire back like the Wallmans did when our big scrubber bull got into their prize cows before the Ekka last year!

All ya gotta do is just make yourself comfy, aim and hit the target. It's a piece of piss! Ya don't even load your cartridges, they come in little boxes, and ya don't have ta steady yourself against the rollbar of the roo shootin' truck when ya reload!

Sometimes you gotta wrestle with the city boys and I gotta be real careful coz they break easy - it's not like fightin with Doug and Phil and Monkey and Joe and Kenny and Wozza all at once like we do at home after the muster.

Turns out I'm not a bad boxer neither. Looks like I am the best we got in our platoon at the moment, and I've only been beat once, by some bloke from the Engineers squad - he's six-foot-four tall and weighs nineteen stone and he's three pick handles across the shoulders. As ya know I'm only five-foot-five, and seven stone wringin' wet, but I fought him till the other blokes carried me off, still punchin, to the boozer.

I can't complain about the Army - tell the lads ta get in the queue quick before word gets around how bloody good it all is.

Well, gotta go now, Mum and Dad.

From your loving daughter,

Sheila

906

TO THE FIRST ROBIN

Welcome, welcome, little stranger,
Fear no harm, and fear no danger;
We are glad to see you here,
For you sing "Sweet Spring is near."

Now the white snow melts away;
Now the flowers blossom gay:
Come dear bird and build your nest,
For we love our robin best.

IN-BETWEEN MAY

Let great November
Offer a big gown.
Unwed in February,
I tore her heart down.
See a showery April,
As more loose tears drown.

A torrid August
Left one regret wind-blown.
Cold, grey December, too
Of oats unsown.
This slow March,
Time has noiselessly flown.

907

[A Scrabble Tiles Anagram Poem]

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Guess I'd pick a gift in May
To arrive on my next birthday;
O, petals 'ere June,
or we will divorce soon;
Find a huge azalea bouquet!