A special position is held by the pollies
who are trying to hide from us their follies.
Rorting the system, in parliament missing,
their mistresses in secret kissing,
with promises in vagueness uttered
and when found out, excuses muttered,
but when the voters feel neglected,
these pollies won’t get re-elected!
Peter Frederick
The storm is howling in gruesome night,
it is pitch-dark – not even moonlight.
A lonely old house looks dark and forbidding,
the outside dunny is shaking, almost lifting.
No creature is seen, they’re hiding in fear,
it’s dreadful as if the end is near.
Fear and horror still rule hours later,
a voice from the dunny pleads solemnly: ‘Paper!
Peter Frederick
My computer and I are good friends,
Together we work every day.
I sit there and type with my hands
And new poems are on the way.
When poems are sad and depressing,
When stories are cheerful and gay,
My fingers type on relentlessly
As I have a lot to say.
Sometimes my computer goes cranky;
It freezes and stops half the way.
But with patience and using my savvy,
Starting to work it then may.
Words that misspelled, it corrects
And sentences that gone awry.
Improvement in style it suggests,
Plus new words for me to try.
Peter Frederick
