On Meeting Young People In Benalla Poem by Francis Duggan

I sat scribbling on the sidewalk in Benalla Country Town
By the bridge of Broken river where the water flow gray brown
I was on the road to nowhere, i was merely passing time
Defacing Benalla sidewalk with my worthless slipshod rhyme.

Then three youngsters came up to me two young ladies and a boy
And in their best Australian accents greeted with a friendly hi
What goes on their with you 'matey' are you sort of travelling poet?
But i made no answer to them i just merely wrote and wrote.

I don't class myself dishonest but i'm prone to white lie streak
And i wrote down on the pavement three words 'i cannot speak'
And they were young and innocent and proved easy to deceive
And had yet to learn the hard facts 'all you read do not believe'

I loosed my tongue and surprised them and they laughed loud when i spoke
'Hey mate' you're only fooling on us you've been playing a joke
These three had a sense of humour see no harm in a white lie
I had pulled a fast one on them and the joke they did enjoy.

Lisa Hogg and Miss M Fraser two of Benalla's blooming flowers
Fair as any rose that bloometh in Victoria's sunlit bowers
And the fellow came from Melbourne and his name he did not say
And he'd come up to Benalla for the Summer holiday.

Met three youngsters in Benalla on a warm Summer's night
And i have good memories of them and good memories give give delight
But if i met with them tomorrow them i may not recognize
As the dark shadows of evening can play strange tricks with the eyes.