A Writer’s Plea
The typewriter clicks and clacks
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