Chris Higginson Poems

The men returned from World War Two
With dreams of change, well you would too
They’d fought for King and Red White Blue
You’d think we’d know just what to do
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I’ve sometimes wondered why it is
I’m not the first for sure
“What is the lure women’s kiss
And feminine allure? ”
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Two Cowboys crouched beside their fire
With hands held to the flames
All day they’d been riding wire
Protecting ranchers claims
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The tree stood tall, it scraped the sky
It seemed that it would never die
With branches held so very high
From which we’d hear the eagles’ cry
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The Sulphur Crested Cockatoo
Is an Aussie through and through
I’ve met him caged and chained in Spain
Upon a perch out in the rain
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He was in his latter years
With heart now feeling sore
The Doctor said, “Now it appears
You need a heart re-bore!
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Devil said, “God let us battle,
To see where the truth really lies
Set up a man I can rattle
To test if the faith he relies
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It seems the Aussie Government acquired some recent doubts
(Because the rain once heaven-sent is absent ‘cause of droughts)
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The “Smyths’ were hyphened ‘Prendergast’
This shows they were illustrious
They owned some banks, and also vast
Businesses industrious
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They started up “The Haka”, to stimulate their sides
The All Blacks go all blacker and they ponce about with strides
To make some funny noises as though killing all their sheep
Adopting comic poises while their insults we must ‘bleep’
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