Samuel Silly Susage
Come with me down to shady Bottlebrush Way,
Off Cuddly Koala Avenue one bright sunny day.
There's someone I'd very much like you to meet,
My friend Samuel Silly Sausage with two left feet.
Samuel Silly Sausage is a funny little man.
He caught an elephant fish and cooked it in a seaweed pan.
His mother put the fish on a big china dish,
And he smothered it in jam, which was his wish.
Samuel Silly Sausage is a funny little man.
He built a castle made of lovely white sand.
He took the castle and placed it on a slice of bread.
Then walked around with the bread and castle on his head.
Samuel Silly Sausage is a funny little man,
He holds his hair in a rubber band.
He sits in his kitchen eating chocolate and tripe.
With pork chop apples, not quite ripe.
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poem by R.K. Hart
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Speak'n Aussie.
I myself like to speak plain,
Sometimes others drive me insane.
They say fine is my pronunciation,
And does not produce castigation.
So I'd like to give good English a plug,
So would ya give-it-go-ya-mug.
I mean to say fair dinkum.
Don't be down don't be glum.
Speak plainly it will suit.
You do not need a new bag of fruit.
English is no trick,
Unless you're away with the pixies.
How we dress is of importance as well,
We must try to square the circle.
Wearing cozzies or your uggies,
Out of place they look real bodgy.
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poem by R.K. Hart
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Prayer On The Valley Road
I love to walk by the willows along the valley road,
Just before sparkling stars fade and night turns to dawn.
When nocturnal creatures return to their homes,
Lazy mist lifts from the stream and birds greet the morn.
This is where I spend time with my Lord,
Moreover, Addoni is there for me.
I have no wish to be elsewhere,
We speak of loves, losses and glee.
Cities that explode and cities that burn.
We speak of men who are at war.
We speak of loving wives and children,
Moreover, governments whom we implore.
Down a track, that sees a dying moon,
We speak of worldly concerns.
Beautiful creations even the amazing,
He waits for my prayers for our soldiers safe return.
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poem by R.K. Hart
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Benjamin
The Beloved of God.
God loved this man with His love sweet and gentle.
Benjamin showed courage monumental.
Grief struck at his stout heart.
He was the picture integrity, in whole not part.
God's love for Benjamin was so immense it would not hide.
So Jehovah created from Benjamin, an important tribe.
There are some members stated here below.
Ehud, and Saul, to name some you know.
On her death bed Rachel named him 'son of sorrow'.
For Rachel knew she would not delight in his tomorrow.
But Jacob his father would not have his son named so grim,
And determined his son would be called Benjamin.
When Israel conquered Canaan, the diadem,
Benjamin was given the jewel called Jerusalem.
This city grand would belong to the smallest tribe of all.
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poem by R.K. Hart
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Wise Men Say.
There are things to search for in your days.
There are things to hunt down to correct our ways
Attributes that make us better men.
Better men for both our wives and children.
One such thing I have found a difficult item to trace.
I have searched mountain high and valley low for grace.
Grace is a difficult thing to grasp.
When I think I have a hold it slips away and laughs.
Wisdom is another I have searched for in vain.
It seems to be mine, visits for moment then dissipates without my claim.
I hear wise words spoken even from my lips.
Then foolish words from the same mouth slip.
Wiser men believe the perfect flower on its leafy perch,
Is also worth man's time and life long search.
They say to give your life is no waste,
To find the perfect blossom beautiful and chaste.
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poem by R.K. Hart
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Finding My Love
She might be the one, who stands outside theatre grand,
Waiting for the wealthy with ribboned violets in hand.
Her clothes hand me downs from a mother long gone,
She may be the one to raise my heart to sing its song.
She could be found by rushing stream pounding clothes on washing rocks,
Or scaling fish surrounded by gulls, boats and docks.
Her perfume might be that of soap or salt on misty air.
This fair maid could cause a young man's heart to dare.
She might be daughter to the mistress of the house,
And his bed the lowly stable with the company of a mouse.
His love walks by and her sweet perfume of lavender travels on a breeze,
Breaking the hearts of the stronger men and weakening them at the knee.
She may be the humble maid in a public house on Collins Street,
Shapely green uniform, moving from room to room so discrete.
When the day is done she dresses in a red coat.
And her blonde hair on its collar floats.
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poem by R.K. Hart
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Jesse
Meaning Jehovah Exists or Firm.
The son of Obed and father of David, grandson of Boaz and Ruth, and an ancestor of Christ [Ruth 4: 17,12].
Jesse had eight sons and two daughters by different wives [1 Sam.17: 12-14,25].
Isaiah speaks of "the stock of Jesse, " a phrase indicating from Jesse the Messiah would come.
The humble descent of the Messiah is contrasted with the glorious kingdom He is to have [Isa 11: 1].
Angelic one our beautiful son,
Jehovah knew you from day one.
He knew the whole of your tale,
Every inch of you and every breath you exhale.
What might you have achieved in your earthly life?
No doubt children and a loving wife!
Perhaps a Doctor, a Lawyer, or Electrician,
A Carpenter, Pastor, or Mathematician.
He has taken you to dwell by His throne,
Safer, more protected you call heaven home.
Bathsheba's child left his parents while so very young,
David knew he would eventually walk by his son.
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poem by R.K. Hart
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The Prince of the Road.
In some countries he is called a hobo with trousers baggy.
In my country he is a swaggie.
His hair is unkempt, trouser belt a tie.
His hat would make the self respecting person cry.
His ragged beard plunging the depth of his chest,
Under it a worn and stained suits vest.
He wakes in the morn to the Kookaburra laugh,
He makes Billy tea and watches paddle steam craft.
They say he came from outback town to the west,
Some say he was an English duke complete with crest.
If so, he had thrown away a life ease and pleasure,
He had now only one great treasure.
As the Maggie sang he takes a small bundle from his swag,
It is carefully wrapped in oilskin and a velvet rag.
Once unwrapped it is now plain to be seen,
Small book and crests of two houses, a duke and queen.
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poem by R.K. Hart
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The Tulip and The Wattle
She played among chocolate and silver walls,
Her music was the kookaburra's calls.
He played among walls wool and wheat,
Where the Riverina grass is sweet.
She had come from a far land,
With beautiful tulips and windmills grand.
There was her land and its majestic history.
Which to him was a mystery.
Of mighty ships gallant and tall,
In them heroic men answering histories call.
A land with inherent dangers,
Where flooding waters are not strangers.
Their ships with wind filled sails,
Crossed the seas in storm and gale.
Sailing much of the seven seas',
To gain wealth and majesties please.
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poem by R.K. Hart
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Loves Beauty
I'm going ask you to stop consider with me,
Without loves caress where would we be.
Let me relate my experience in the matter,
Its importance is far above mindless chatter.
Loves beauty fondles the hair,
Moreover, shares both dramas and blackest fears.
To heart and mind it clings,
In addition, causes the recipients heart to sing.
I wake each morning to the sound of her voice,
Waking without this music would not be my choice.
Her voice gives a song to my heart,
Also courage to storm a day's rampart.
She turns a simple man into a knight of old,
She gives me an even greater resolve.
This love I have has enlivened my hearing,
With flowers opening and rivers brooking.
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poem by R.K. Hart
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