The old man's getting married to a fat ******,
Ding, ****, the wedding hearse does shine!
That' what he gets for perving!
Get him to the morgue on time!

The old man's getting to a fat ******,
Ding, ****, the wedding hearse does shine!
The undertakers are steady,
Both the coffins are ready,
Extra wide for  the big fat groom and bride!

The old man's getting married to a fat ******,
Ding, ****, the wedding hearse does shine!
The bride is wearing her thongy,
His sons are bringing their bongies,
Get him to the morgue on time!

The old man's groom married to a fat ******,
Ding, ****, the wedding hearse does shine,
The mob are bringing Marijuana pesto,
The transvestites are saying hello,
They can be mothers of the bride!

The old man's getting married to a fat ******,
Ding, ****, the wedding hearse shall shine,
Yes, that's what you get for perving,
The morticians are all ready,
The coffins are standing steady,
Get him to the morgue on time!

This is an ode to strangers,
As past my gaze you ranges,
Do you all have happier lives?
Or is that advertising jive?
No human is perfect, I guess,
Of has a  perfect life, no less,
Anyone can make a mistake, confess!
Pappas don't preach, I suggest,
Men just don't understand, be blessed!

Are all footy fanatics
Total raving lunatics?
The flag's in the bag!
We've got lively lads
The best we've ever had!
Peter Pans on ***,
The flags that time forgot!
Footy finals fever,
Talk about dream weavers!
Footy finals phobia,
TV claustrophobia,
Why didn't we win,
Any old excuse again!
Footy fanatics,
Raving lunatics,
Footy finals fever,
Melbourne's dream weavers!

Here I have a chocolate meditation,
Writing an ode for edification,
What is a chocolate meditation?
It is a packet of Tim Tams, in Oz nation,
Let's hear it  for Oz Tim Tams,
From an Australian native chocolate plant,
Thence to an endless dish,
Of chocolate biscuits, utter bliss,
No afternoon tea is complete,
For the last Tim Tam we do compete,
Giggling gerties, one and all,
Chicks can hide them in their holdalls,
Without Tim Tams, housework is incomplete,
Must keep our ample figures neat!
I've heard they're unique to Oz nation,
Tim Tams, total chocolate meditation!

This house of hyperbole,
Does defy credulity,
Let's all exaggerate,
Aim to manipulate,
"I shall love you infinitely!"
Sounds a normal hyperbole,
"I never got over you!"
Am  I am a drama mama too?
You want me and need me,
But you don't love me,
Is that called two out of three?
Or more hyperbole?
Why answer such questions?
I'm always open to your suggestions,
As usual for you and me,
In this house of hyperbole........

Oh, humanity,
Making a welter of things,
Put our brains to better use....

Let's fly like eagles,
To our grail of peace restored,
We don't do perfect, okay.....

Moans, sleep deprivation,
Groans across our great nation.

Blame all dumb inventors,
Droughts, floods, some mentors!

We'll all vanish on timely wings,
Faults saving daylight brings!

Day was very sunny,
Old Jet felt so funny,
Old black lab, muzzle grey,
His family off to work today,
Left alone, watchdog to keep,
Old Jet lay down to sleep,
His gait was slow,
Not much get up and go,
Jet slumbered on,
Not too long,
His canine dreams bemusing,
Flashbacks Old Jet perusing,
Brilliant happy companion days,
Lots of fun and rambling plays,
Ben was his best loved lad,
Now Jet's unofficial dad,
His loyalty never wavered,
Yes, Ben he always favoured,
Pats and hugs and lots of snacks,
All kindness, time to relax,
Old Jet's breathing slowed,
Snoring on, time to go,
Asleep in the sun, one deep sigh,
No one home to say goodbye,
No drama, no fuss,
Old Jet's no longer with us,
His long life over,
Puppy Heaven for old rover,
Old Jet had breathed his last,
Finally, Jet had passed.

On bliss and your bulldust....
To talk bulldust,
You feel you must,
Aeons of timeless bliss,
Stemming from a secret kiss,
Your emotional manipulation,
Napoleon and his satisfaction,
Our mutual benefits,
Subterfuge and tacit bliss,
A garden of happy memories,
Daily we plant new love trees,
To talk to me bulldust,
You feel you must,
I don't know why you I trust,
My verse to bliss and your bulldust.

Once there was Golgotha, when,
A God walked amongst men,
Is He coming back again?
He walks with our feet,
With our smiles He greets,
He works with our hands,
A friendship for many lands,
His ghost looks like His shroud of Turin,
Is He ever coming back again?

Once were dinners a deux, you see,
Was it only a few months, or a century?
Once were schools abuzz with kids,
Teachers agog to see what they did,
Once were universities,
Alive with youthful dreams, indeed,
Once were pubs with beers.
Once were football here,
These are viral times, my dears,
Once were bushfires too,
A horror story for me and you,
Yes, Stephen King wrote this year,
Once were Oz fun times, not fears.

A member of the dating scene,
Only online, giggles it seems,
Today a man did 'wink' at me,
Can you imagine, hilarity,
He lives 3000 miles away, by the sea,
****** fungus covers he,
He has more than slight obesity,
Should I wink at the walrus? Tee hee,
I'llpack up my gear and get out of here,
You'll manage without me, non-dear,
I'm off to a walrus by the sea,
You'll learn to cook your lunch and tea,
Byeee! Yeah, well in reality,
I've got cellulite and jocularity!

Only in dreams,
Is this place, it seems,
To be a horizon?
Sky to ponder on
Where water meets,
No city streets,
A force of nature,
Is this Earth's future,
Drowned world, it seems,
Or only it dreams ........

If I could trade places,
Surround myself with new faces,
Maybe I could share my smiles,
With new friends across the miles,
To learn fresh customs and foods,
To acquire broader attitudes,
If we could all trade places,
There would no other 'races'.......

It's have an opposite day,
You write, I'll draw, let's say,
Or I'll write a one act play,
Whoops! Write a verse anyway,
So much for opposites day.........

How to get off the treadmill,
We've all been workers, through the mill,
In golden days, we step back,
Cut all the young ones some slack,
Their time for the great Oz dream,
Is the economy what it seems?
At our age we've been through the mill,
Our golden years, off the treadmill....

Lighten
Brighten
Knighten
Heighten
Inspiring Lord, lighen brighten way,
Global preaching, knighten heighten day.

Word craft from our muse.
Creating does us bemuse,
Fans can join our guild,
As images writers build!

Let's unite in our origin story,
From way back when in history,
It's all for humans, but not obligatory,
The spirit behind all faiths, you see,
It's up to you what you believe,
Our psyches touched by grace, prithee,
None of us are one trick ponies,
All to do with our origin story......

Once upon a childhood ago,
I wanted an elephant, you know,
Only a toy friend,
Did my family laugh no end!
Yes, I wanted a heydo-**,
Once upon a childhood ago.......

Outside my window,
Great morning, I know,
I gaze at the flowers,
Today, rain no showers,
Summer sun's powers,
Lovely morning, I know,
Outside the window........

People explosion,
Over population,
Dark on the sun,
How big is too big?
Is it too many figs?
What's your solution
to people explosion?
They bring pollutions,
Over population,
Dark on the sun,
Maybe free contraception,
Some new invention?
Chemical free solutions
to people explosions,
Over population,
Dark on the sun.

Does everyone else overthink?
I over-analyse everything,
Every little thing that people say,
As  we proceed through each day,
Horrors! I gained an ounce!
And you look full of bounce!
FU** we're going to die fat and alone!
And we'll all get gallstones,
Listen to all my inner moans,
I'm overthinking again, you see,
There should be an overthinkers' society!!

One day, upon reflection,
I decided it was mindless meditation,
How can I cure overthinking?
Folk say cure it by alcohol drinking,
Or are boozies stinking thinking?
Or I can aim for lots of reading,
Then more pulp fiction I am needing,
Shame  I don't go to the pub for drinkies,
Overthinkers have too many thinkies!

Prompt for all the young,
Think of your digital fun,
Invent some device for the future,
Code a robotic pooper scooper,
For flies, mosquitoes and all pooper,
This no diseases in the future,
Soon that would be a beautser,
Emit water and oxygen,
Lots of ideas you can ken,
Nothing wrong with millenial brains,
Flies, mossies, pooper down the drains!

This is sage advice,
At gigolos don't look twice,
It's a pandemic world,
Solo *******, guys and girls,
All around the  world,'
Blip yourselves, dudes and girls,
Then on with the happy pants,
Back to online work, us ants,
How do I know all this?
Google's life coaching is the blip!

Liar, Liar,
Pants on fire,
You are a naughty liar, man,
When did you care for a woman?
Don't say you're my friend, liar,
No wonder your pants are on fire!

Once were fake friends,
Away, they did wend,
Phony smiles and paper hearts,
Who cares, as we part,
Plastic people all gone,
Bitter taste can linger on,
These days I am believing
It's better to say, "No hard feelings."

Here is my version of a paradigm shift,
Socratic questions if you get my drift.
Why did God make the Universe elliptical?
To make an Aussie football, not spherical!
Why did God make football? See here,
To make men miserable, my dears!
Why did God make beer?
To make men happy, my dears!
So, some intelligent chappies here,
Taking beer to the football, no fears,
Now they're miserable and happy dears!

Paradox in a poem,
No rhyme or rhythm,
Time Lord aboard,
Across space and time,
Crossing all the lines,
Deep cold eons,
Between galaxies,
Spiral nebulae,
Glittering stars,
Beyond and afar,
Time Lord aboard,
Across space and time,
No reason, no rhyme.

It's Parent/Teachers interviews today,
Come along and share the blame,
They're graduating just the same,
Kids have a teacher free day,
We gave them Standardised tests,
Their self-esteem needs a rest,
That's why this school has a fence,
Who's got the common sense?
Yes, the PT interviews are today,
Come along and share the blame!

Really not a party gal,
At social do's, I talk to animals,
The hosts pet dog, cat or budgie,
So much more fun for me,
Then "what time is it, look!
I want to go to bed with my book!"

Here is a thought to be seen,
Now we're no longer teens,
We can have a party with a theme,
For the families we've barely seen,
It's called a 'Cinderella' party, O queens
of the families we've barely seen,
Yes, Cinderella is our theme,
You come and cook and clean,
You do some housework for a change,
This Cinderella would find that strange,
Our families would go quite deranged,
Now we are no longer teens,
It's only a romantic dream,
For parties, Cinderella is our theme........

Our golden plateau,
Connecting password-loving
Handmaid of desire.......

Wed at last, married,
Laundry waited, dishes wait,
Patient, kind, all mine!

I give you a pat on the back,
Me, you always cut some slack,
Thank you for healing my heart,
A 'thank you' would be a start,
You never say anything to whack,
I give you a pat on the back,
You're just a plain golden heart,
A 'thank you' to you for healing my heart.

We must be politically correct,
Or is it a flawed concept?
Does it stifle chats honest?
But, we must be politically correct!

My muse had a good idea,
Let's flood the world with Ikea!
Dysfunctional kits, there and here.
For guns and bombs here
No one would care.
They would be assembling Ikea,
Each kit, four missing bits,
Wrong pictures to give them the blip,
Globally occupied with dysfunctional Ikea,
Now isn't this a good idea?
Peace on Earth brought by Ikea.

Peachy it shall be,
Preaching beyond choirs devout,
Guide all souls to Light.

The Flintstones, blast from the past,
That was a pregnancy to last,
For Pebbles  we waited so long,
She did sing her own songs,
Now this is a fact so scary,
Pebbles has now turned sixty,
I can't believe how old we've got,
Once the Flintstones really rocked!

Is that a flying pelican?
Or is it a pterodactyl, I can
see a flying pelican,
It's like Pleistocene history,
Not evolving? That's a mystery,
Look, a flying pelican,
Its beak holds more than its bellycan!

Let's visit our sacred space,
Pray for blessings of grace,
Pray for an encounter with the Lord,
If it all came true, we'd all be awed,
Personal encounters with grace,
Hidden, but not far, in our sacred space.

Is there a genuine Person X?
A true hero of the chicks, no less!
With buns of steel,
No urban heel,
A superhero dude,
With total attitude,
All for good, I suggest,
Like superman to bless,
God's gift to women he'd be,
Person X for the centuries,
Sounds like such a fantasy!
No one is perfect, I guess,
So much for meeting Person X!!

I have many koalifications,
Numbed by gum leaves, stupefaction,
Glazed by arid summer drought,
Real hot today, there's no doubt!
What's this? Black storm clouds?
Who said clouds were allowed?
Now there's rain a'drenching,
Oh, it's stopped, not worth mentioning,
There's a eucalyptus Petrichor,
I'll daze now, did it rain at all?

Beam me up, she said,
Mary Poppins  I have read,
Pet advocate was she,
I'll feed my birds, signed me!

Here am I, a fur detective,
What is a pet's perspective?
Fur friends make us happy, you see,
Have to return their love, ask me,
What would your pet say to thee?
Thanks for the cuddles, good company,
Thanks for meal and comfy bed,
Thanks for the snacks, enough said,
Message from this fur detective,
Turn your eyes to the pet's perspective!

Why do men sit sulking alone?
Is it worse than Premenstrual Syndrome?
Is PFS far worse for men?
Indeed, by PFS, what is meant?
Why, it's Post Football Syndrome!
Don't say it's only a game, Oh no!
Round here, it's total blasphemy,
Or, let's say, utter heresy!
SSHHH...let's tiptoe away,
Dodging his tantrums today,
How does PFS affect you?
Find something else to do,
Preferably in another room,

Why do men sit sulking alone?
Easy, they have Post Football Syndrome...
SSSHHHHH......!!!!!

"What is beautiful?" Aristotle did say,
"What is a question, anyway?"
"Why ask questions?" Ask Socrates,
"We ask questions, to need to know,
Because we're all human, you know,
Brains overthinking on the go,
"So, what would you call beautiful?" I ask,
The philosophers debate this task,
To love learning, I guess,
That's one answer to their quest,
Or to love wisdom and learning,
For answers we're all yearning,
"What is beautiful?" Aristotle did say,
"What is a question, anyway?"

Torn photograph  I found,
Dry eyes, tears did not abound,
These days I am a good old girl,
Why did rotten mongrel I give a whirl?
C'est la vie, I guess, ashtrays,
So I threw  the photograph away.....
"Good riddance" that's what I say!

This is a verse about pizazz,
What, you ask, is that jazz?
Well, it's fat daggy shorts,
We do not look good, us dorks,
I know you're jealous, that's the jazz,
You ain't got our fat shorts and pizazz.....