Biography of George Savige
I have been writing poems for over 40 years.
I moved from Moe in victoria to Cooranbong NSW where I met and Married my lovely wife.
We have 3 children 2 are married and glenn our Downs syndrome son lives with us.
My interests are, Writing, Bushwalking, radio and communications and computing.
lately I have become interested in Free to air Satellite TV
I have been a member of the local fire brigade and State emergency service since 1957. In October 2011 my wife, after a 53 years of a beautiful marriage passed away
George Savige's Works:
The Storm That Flew by and other poems 1990
ISBN No 0-646-00200-7 now out of print.
George Savige Poems
You cannot buy your happiness, 'Cause happiness is free. Don't you know, or can't you guess, It's there for you and me.
The Rainbow's Gold
They told me with each Rainbow I'd find a pot of gold, And I had never proved it, But that's what I was told.
We used to sit besides the track, Watching trains go clickety clack. We'd count each carriage passing by, And smell the smoke that filled the sky.
I once owned a Bantam It wasn’t a chook. Now you cannot see one, Except in a book.
The Loggers Day
In the bush where trees are high, Reaching up into the sky. This is where we made our cash, Cutting down the Mountain Ash.
Only believe That Jesus can save. Only believe The Promise he gave.
Sometimes I’m very wide Sometimes I’m very small, Other times I’ve faded And can’t be seen at all.
I sometimes think back Through the years, Of crystal sets And burning ears.
To hospital they sent you, Feeling pretty bad. And on the day you went you Wondered what you had.
Wake Up Town
A rooster stands upon his toe, And bellows forth a mighty crow, Telling all those soundly sleeping, Light of day is slowly creeping.
We went out fishing in a boat, Charlie, Wal and me. As it was cold, we wore a coat, Fishing on the sea.
Asleep In The Storm
I HEARD THE THUNDER RATTLE AND SAW THE SKY EXPLODE, THE HEAVENS IN THEIR FURY WERE SENDING DOWN THEIR LOAD.
It's Not Cricket
A cricket ball goes whizzing by, Far across the open sky. The ball is bowled and hit again Breaking someones window pane.
The Toy Soldier
I am a toy soldier Standing on some grass, Made of painted hessian, By a sea of glass.
The Toy Soldier
I am a toy soldier
Standing on some grass,
Made of painted hessian,
By a sea of glass.
I fire my gun in battle
But do not make a sound.
The only noise is prattle
Of little children 'round.