He was just an Outback larrikin, the bloke they called Mad Mick
He outpaced every crocodile, he dived and swam so quick
Then one fateful summer’s day he drank from dusk till dawn
They still recount his one-race loss, years since he’s been gorn
He outpaced every crocodile, he dived and swam so quick
Then one fateful summer’s day he drank from dusk till dawn
They still recount his one-race loss, years since he’s been gorn
11 comments:
Poor Mick! You certainly pack a full tale into very few lines! Terrific!
Awwwwww, that is so sad! Please compose one telling of the awesome plaque that was placed for him......
Now that's some fancy poetic license, for shorn.
What a stunning and interesting blog you have here! I thoroughly enjoyed spending some time here today. Thank you so much for stopping by Finding Sirius and leaving such a kind comment...I love the Smitten Image site! So nice to "meet"you! :)
Your blog is great! I love it. And this poem is... simple and beautiful.
Cant wait to read more
Ha-ha! "Since he's been gorn" I love that bit. May he rest in pizza, poor Mick.
How great was that? Certainly NOT a literary crime! I loved it!
So mind you all brave boys and girls, and do remember this
If you imbibe all day and night, beware Mick's sillinesss
Lesson:
Never drink
and dive
with the crocodiles! ;-)
Blimey - I wonder what Ed meant to say...
David, brilliant - I love the word "gorn" - it makes me think of those leathery outback blokes with the broad accents.
Some lovely photos here of late too - I've been a bit too busy to pop over much...
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