David Lewis Paget

Gold Star - 9,373 Points (22.11.1944 / Nottingham, England/live in Australia)

Saving The Sea - Poem by David Lewis Paget

‘I used to work for the council here, ’
Said ‘Ripper’ Jones at the bar,
Fortified with a Beam or two
And a pint of the best, Three Star,
Trelawney winked at the barman and
The barman, he winked back,
‘We’re in for another ripper yarn, ’
Said the bearded Cousin Jack.

‘They always gave me the dirty jobs,
It was always just my luck,
They’d point to me, say, ‘Ripper’s free,
Break out the tipper truck!
You know, that beast with seven gears
But only three of them worked,
The brakes were non-existent, and
The Foreman, he was a jerk! ’

‘We used to call him Father Time
He was always on the prowl,
Calling time to the Smoko breaks
With an ever present scowl.’
He said, ‘Pick up that giant rock
In the Commer Tipper Truck,
The ocean’s sprung a giant leak
And we have to seal it up! ’

‘It took us a crane to lift this rock
It was seven feet across,
‘This mother has to be fifteen tons, ’
Said my mate, crane driver Ross.
‘What did he say you need it for? ’
He yelled, in a sort of screech,
‘I have to drive it down to the shore,
There’s a great big hole in the beach! ’

‘The Commer sank right down on its springs,
This rock, a hell of a load,
I had to drive it in second gear
With the tyres flat on the road,
I finally made it down to the shore
And thought, ‘I must be a mug! ’
The sea was circling round the hole
Like a bath when you pull out the plug.

I had to wait for an hour or two
‘Til it emptied out the bay,
All you could see was a dry seabed
For a mile or so, each way,
Then I drove the truck right up to the hole,
Thinking to tip it in,
When a giant geyser of steam shot up,
The sea was turning to steam.’

‘You know what the brakes on that truck were like,
They hadn’t been fixed for years,
I thought I’d better get out of there
Or it all would end in tears.
But the truck rolled forward, over the hole
And began to sink right in,
While I climbed out of the window there
Determined to save my skin.’

‘The truck sank down, under the rock
And it plugged that head of steam,
You could barely see the tip of the tray
When the tide came rolling in,
And that’s the rock you go fishing off,
You can say it was down to me,
While you were throwing your schooners back
I was out there, saving the sea! ’

Poet's Notes about The Poem

14 October 2013

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Poem Submitted: Monday, October 14, 2013

Poem Edited: Friday, October 25, 2013

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