And puts the print on paper

I will check for any silly mistakes

If I find any, “Oh well, I’ll fix it later.”

But then of course I just forget

And keep on typing right along

But then I notice that ‘damn’ mistake

And ‘holy mackerel’, it’s too late.

I have to throw that paper away

That’s about the fourth time today

With screwed up paper upon the floor

I’ll have to give this writing away.

But then I get in a better mood

And grab the ‘typie’ for another go

I’ve plenty of paper, but I won’t be rude

Will I get it finished? I don’t know.

I keep thinking about what to write

Maybe I will find something new

I don’t talk too much, I’m not a skite

But I try hard to get things right.

I don’t write very well about love

The beautiful Dahlia, or the Rose

There’s plenty of other topics I find

So all that ‘Lovie Dovie’ I leave behind …

There’s many writers whom I admire

Like ‘The Banjo’, ‘Henry’ and ‘The Breaker’

These men had that wonderful gift

To give their readers an awesome lift.

But ‘Oh’ to be a writer of renown

Able to put my words into pictures

For all to read and ‘see the vision’

And they may even, bring me ‘riches’…

My Friendly Willie Wagtail by Nev Newman

Little Willy Wagtail, sitting in a tree

Singing in the moonlight, entertaining me.

I lie back and listen to his lilting song

Then drift into dreamland hoping he sings along.

I hear him in the Oak, and also in the Gum

I’m glad he is here, without him it would be glum.

He is ‘pie’ coloured and lively, with a twinkling eye

His tail is always wagging in a friendly way

He dashes here, he dashes there, flitting all around

And catching many insects to feed his baby’s grand.

He annoys many dogs when they’re at their rest

Stealing hair from them to line their little nests.

by Nev Newman