I’m a humble old Mazda Utility,
I thought my life was at its end,
But suddenly my body became famous,
When I helped Kev. become our new P.M.
Was I chosen by fate to be special?
This new lifestyle beyond my belief,
It brought a new sparkle to my chromework,
And my transmission gave a sigh of relief.
I’d spent most of my life with a ‘tradie’,
He threw all sorts of stuff in my back,
And didn’t care about hurting my tyres,
As he drove across any rough track.
But I knew that my life as a utility,
Was to help some poor bloke make a quid,
And ‘change of life’ to me was incredible,
With the new type of work that I did.
He traded me at John Grant’s car yard,
He’d bought a newer model, you see,
But I hope that he treated it better,
Than the way he abused poor old me.
It happened back there in ’07,
John gave me to his neighbour to use,
And I became Kevin Rudd’s Mobile Office
For the election that was then the big news.
But I enjoyed my new lifestyle with Kevvie,
With Therese and the kids in the back,
As we drove around the streets of the electorate,
Trying to put Johnnie Howard on the rack.
The media just thought I was terrific,
I helped fill their pages with news,
As they presented all the facts to the public,
A privilege that they sometimes abuse.
They just went on and on with the dribble,
As the pollies kept tightening the screws,
And I realized as they sold more newspapers,
That it’s only special Utes that make news.
I never meant to be part of this furore,
To me it’s just political hype,
I think of the homeless and starving,
While our politicians just argue and fight.
But the result was all good in the election,
With good reason for much celebration,
And it brought a wee tear to my headlights,
As I became the toast of the Nation.
Now my home is again at John’s car yard,
And I’m classed as a ‘Celebrity Ute’,
But despite all the ‘Utegate’ publicity,
I thought the whole experience was beaut.
And I’m glad the whole incident happened,
My old motor had another good rev,
And I’ll always be lovingly remembered,
As the Mazda Ute John loaned to Kev.
© John
THE LOOSE SCREW
There’s a screw I think is coming loose,
It’s been happening for some time,
It has some strange effects on me,
And there no real reason or rhyme.
I asked the Doctor why it was,
He said, “Mate, it’s just your age,
At your time of life, there’s things that happen,
You’re just going through that stage.”
I lose my specs, look all around,
Even underneath the bed,
But all the time I’m looking,
They’re up there on my head.
I think ‘Sat-Nav’ is a great idea,
I hope it’s here to stay,
‘Cause every time I drive the car,
I seem to lose my way.
Remembering passwords and bankcard numbers,
Is a problem that’s always there,
And I often go to another room,
And wonder why I’m there.
Nametags I wear for Clubs I’m in,
They get me out of a jam,
I forget my name, but not a problem,
I just look down and see who I am.
So don’t despair with passing years,
Don’t get the old-age blues,
Just take control of all you do,
And tighten up those screws.
© John
THE SEEDS YOU SOW
The seeds you sow each day -
Kindness, encouragement, or a smile
May help another along their way,
Courage to walk another mile.
In life new beginnings can take hold
In ways we could never foretell
Just as weeds multiply in the lawn -
Wrong thoughts deposited, may dwell.
Seeds are faithful when planted
Producing what was meant to grow.
When tomatoes are sown, roses aren’t granted
Like seeds sown, like plants will grow.
An act of kindness, thought to be ordinary
For a seed is such a small thing.
The harvest may be extraordinary
And reap more rewards than you think.
Be mindful of actions and words you speak
Plant only what you mean to grow.
You can be the change in life that you seek
Each day, with the seeds you sow.
© Ann
RIVERBEND
The name reminiscent of a favoured story,
"The Wind in the Willows".
The teahouse under sails and leafy green -
A great place to meet at leisure,
Where friends can talk without pressure.
Comfortable also for those alone.
Time to sit quietly, time to reflect
Surrounded by books and greenery.
Traffic crawling down Oxford Street
Busy but not intrusive.
Coffee and cake, always a pleasure.
In urban Bulimba village, is a treasure
Where calm and service is not so elusive.
Riverbend friendly, but not exclusive.
© Ann