| Aussie Bush Poetry by The Bayldon Bard | |||||||||||||||||||
| Welcome to George New's Home page (The Bayldon Bard) |
Pleased to meet ya. My wonderful wife and I live in Seattle in the north west. Diane (my wife)is a School Bus Driver. We met last year on the internet and I came over here from Australia,met her,fell in love and got married last December. It is our intention at this stage to go back to Australia sometime next year. | ||||||||||||||||||
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Following are a couple of my original Poems...... Claim to Fame. By George New So I like my new found fame, What the hell's wrong with that? At least I know where I'm going now, And I know where it's at. I never thought my life Would ever amount to much, I wasn't like some of those I know, There was no Midas Touch. So when the breaks came my way I was Johnny-on-the-spot, And that my friends is how I came To work at the parking lot. Some may think a job like this To be lowly and demeaning, This may be true,but then I say, It beats the pants off office cleaning. Where else would one ever get the chance To act like a parking cop, Telling people where to go And where they have to stop. There was a time I'm not proud to say I was one of the lowly rank, I was just a plain old commoner With a mind that was just as blank. But I rose above that diversity, Those times I soon forgot, I've realized my "Claim to Fame" I work at the parking lot. Come rain,hail,sun or snow, I'm ever on the alert, I can be seen surveying my kingdom Adorned in my red shirt. My red shirt has my name on the front, It says in big bold letters,Stan, Some people have said it's only there So I'll know who I am. But I know more than they credit me with And that includes my name, I know every car and where they park I've got a photogenic brain. For all of those who make me mad And get me feeling mean, I have their wheels locked for being Where they shouldn't have been. Oh they rant and rave and scream and yell Sometimes they've even cried, But nothing can sway my conviction Revenge is on my side. I remember a woman not long ago After a ticket I gave her, Begging me to free her car In return for a little favour. I told her straight there'd be none of that, Just no way at all, A car's no place for that sort of thing And my office was way too small. And my Mother,there's another thing She thought because we're kin, She could park for as long as she likes And I'd wear it with a grin. Well,I wore it with a grin alright I was laughing through my beard, Then I impounded her like all the rest Until her cheque was cleared. But I'm known to have a softer side, Compassion I can feel, For those of you too young or old To get behind the wheel. To others,a weak and mushy pushover Is something that I'm not, And that my friends is how I came To own the bloody lot. _______________ She'll be Apples. By George New. We've all had problems in our life With which we've had to grapple, But never did I think I'd have one caused by a little red apple. As is normal custom and practice On an overseas Sydney flight, They bring around a snack in the box To see you through the night. My box contained a little red apple, A sandwich of tomato and ham And a minute piece of shortbread cake With traces of strawberry jam. The cake and the sandwich hit the spot But the little red apple would keep, So I just dropped it in my overnight bag And started counting sheep. My peaceful slumber was suddenly shattered, All thoughts of sleep were gone, As a voice with a yankee accent Boomed through the intercom. For those of you getting off at Sydney Wait 'til the seat belt message clears, And for all of you that are Brisbane bound Set your watch back fifteen years. I thought to myself, what a liberty, I've never heard such jive, What the hell is she talking about? At the most it's only five. The tyres screamed as they hit the tar At Sydney aerodrome, The big jet came to a standstill And the engines ceased their drone. First stop from there was the customs hall And as I waited around, I just placed me overnight travelling bag Beside me on the ground. I hadn't been there very long Maybe a minute or so, When I noticed this mongrel flea bitten dog With a uniformed sheilah in tow. He seemed to be showing my overnight bag An undue amount of attention, And what I thought he had in mind I'd just as soon not mention. Then the woman said in a voice That wasn't very discreet, "I presume this is your bag Lying beside your feet?" Before I had a chance to reply,she said, "Let's take a look inside." In there she found my little red apple I nearly bloody well died. Just then the place erupted Cops came from everywhere, "Get your hands above your head And move 'em if you dare." I tried to tell them I must be the victim Of some evil,insidious plan To smuggle apples into Australia, "I am an INNOCENT man." Then one of those ugly coppers said, "I think there's a very good chance If you look real close I think he's carrying A couple in his pants." So I had to submit to a strip search In front of that staring crowd, Just to prove that I, in fact, Was simply well endowed. I finally had me day in court "You've got six months." He said I responded "that won't worry me much, I can do that on me head!" "If that's the case," the Judge replied, rising from his seat, "Then I guess you can handle another six months, Just to get you back on your feet." I've been freed from Long bay Gaol at last And they've given me parole, But I've lost me house,me wife me car and job And I'm living on the dole. So when it comes to contraband, If ever you're tempted to dabble, For heavens sake make doubly sure You never smuggle an apple. __________________ | |||||||||||||||||||
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Apart from Bush Poetry I also paint in oils..mainly Australian landscapes. I hope to include some of my work on this page in the near future when I learn a bit more about HTML's
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