An Ode To Summer Poetry

(Author’s note: During the 1980’s a local man published a bit of poetry in the Southern Argus, a small country newspaper in South Australia. His poems were famous for the overuse of the words “twas” “twil” and “ere” and his attempt at Shakespearian verse often amused his readers. He gained quite a reputation and I always enjoyed his efforts, until I realised one week he’d published a poem which I’d uttered in jest at a gathering. I’d been plagiarised! I went straight home and wrote this. No hard feelings. I was flattered.)

An Ode To Summer Poetry

The sun shone down real hot
The grass twas very serene
I felt thirsty a lot
Ere I drank a drink – twas green

The pool twas nice and cool
Twas filled with water, see?
I usually dove in as a rule
Twas water washed over me

The sun beat down long ere
I felt real hot and sweaty
I stroked my wife’s nice hair
Or was the hair on Betty?

I sat and wrote a verse
To tell my wife I love her
Ere things at home are worse
In brains I am above her

She keeps on giving me crap
About my rhyme and meter
If she don’t get off my back
Out of her life I’ll peter

Twas a summer’s night at home
Twil work on my verse, I said
I had to work on my poem
Ere she kicked me out of bed

My soulmate in verse and rhyme
Lives yonder in lakeside down south
I suspect his poems are mine
Stolen from this very mouth

I’ll trick him now – watch this
Twil write something real good
No one twil believe it’s his
I’ll be dubbed poetry’s Robin Hood

I’m blissed when the muse does take me
I’m really a real good poet
Some fame I hope it will bring me
When someone, someday, twil know it

When I sleep I dream “twas twas twas”
Or sometimes “ere ere ere ere”
My plagiarist mate dreams of Shakespeare
Aren’t we a talented pair?

31 February 1990

PS: A critique is permissible. Please refer it to the Almost Dead Poet’s Society, care of the usual address, for vetting and desexing before Argus-publishing.

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