Paul Warren Poems

You’re my rev-head chic tuned to my fuel-injected soul
Reaching the finish line together is our life-time goal
Our pole position will not tempt the racetrack fates
We fine-tune our engines to make super-charged soul mates
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In Adelaide at Greenfields trains pass at 100ks so very fast
One morning a passenger decided his train would be his last
This time there were no rules for a closed door metro train
And so on hot days the open doors would always remain
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Ride on through forever is my fondest dream
You’re my pillion passenger riding on so extreme
Cruisin’ down the highway like a king and queen
We’ll lean into the corners together riding on supreme
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At Pozieres the Australian First Division advanced their line
It was July 1916 and the Great War was raging at the time
The British didn't advance, and the Australians were alone
German artillery pounded and their trenches in were blown
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Why is it when politicians are thinking of the dollar
And wanting to do something perceived unpopular
They go into a mode that calls for playing a charade
And want their decisions into the distance to fade
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She lived with her mother and new step-father
At 12 years old she had a younger sister and brother
She was watching 60 minutes one Sunday night
On the show a pregnant younger girl gave her a fright
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Did I see you there out the corner of my eye?
On that day when there was a cloud-less sky
Did I hear you call my name as I passed your room?
Or was it something that I hoped for in my gloom
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One cold dark lonely night in the day’s early hour
We went to Strathmont Centre for Coronial power
One of residents there had passed on
Gone in his sleep he hadn’t suffered long
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How do you convey what you feel?
To craft the words and make it so real
What do they think when reading it through?
Will it give them something over to chew?
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Just out of town we saw an old Commer van
Being driven by a scraggy unshaven older man
Written across the side in hand written prose
"Outback Handyman - anything goes"
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