Category Archives: choices

Legal Spender

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With deep regret, I must advise –
Though tears still cloud my mournful eyes –
A friend we all hold close and dear
Has met untimely end, I fear.

Her wardrobe has no earthly equal –
Sad it seems, there’ll be no sequel –
Gold and silver, purples, browns,
Bold designs and regal crowns.

As legal tender, she may reign –
Though she’s been called by many names –
But who among us carries cash
(Though some still like to make a splash)?

A wave of plastic deems us flush –
Enough to make a tycoon blush –
We spend as if there’s no tomorrow,
But come month’s end, we’ll need to borrow.

And as rates rise beyond the skies –
And statements viewed with anxious sighs –
We may well rue the painful day
We changed the way we chose to pay.

Stephen Tomkins
6 October 2022
Perth

The World is Way Too Much

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Silhouette trees close ranks to shield

The now-departed sun,

The chill advances by degrees

Then breaks into a run.

Incandescent suns on poles

Shed cold mid-winter light,

Holding back, at least for now,

A brash mid-winter night.

Here in the fortress nation,

Largely, we can feel secure –

Just keep those borders welded shut

Until there is a cure.

Yet in the throes of vaccine woes

We choose to close our eyes,

Pretending COVID’s gone away,

Denial justifies.

While in the mall, behind the wall,

The spending knows no peer,

As long as over there remains

Away from over here.

Stephen Tomkins
24 May 2021
Sydney

Hurry

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I passed you on the street today –

You hurried on your worried way.

And though our eyes did never meet,

Hastened on by frantic feet,

I felt a kinship just the same –

It seems we play a common game.

 

We hurry here, we hasten there,

And speed ourselves toward despair.

The flowers here that bloom today

Will tomorrow fade away.

And today, with all its cares,

With all its likes and all its shares,

 

Will be repeated evermore,

As all our efforts bleed us poor.

So, take a breath, extend a smile,

Inhale the sunshine for a while.

Upon this earth, we linger not:

Pray, make the most of what you’ve got.

 

Stephen Tomkins
31 October 2019
Sydney

Guns

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Check your egos at the door,

Leave your guns and, furthermore,

Make your way onto the floor –

There’s always room for just one more.

 

The gangsters and the rappers too

Will likely have more bling than you

But that won’t stop the funky beat

From whipping up a tasty treat.

 

‘Cause, in the end, who really cares

Just who submits to stupid dares?

We’re all here to have some fun –

For that, you will not need a gun.

 

Stephen Tomkins
18 January 2019
Sydney

Everyone’s a Critic

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Critics gonna criticise

No matter what you do

Until you get that special ‘name’

And then they’ll all love you.

So, do your best and publish

When you think the time is right,

‘Cos critics are proud owners

Of so much more bark than bite.

 

Stephen Tomkins
21 September 2018
Sydney

Wars

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We talk of battles, we talk of wars;

We fight for each other, we fight for a cause.

And though we might wish to fight goblins or elves,

The real wars are those fought inside of ourselves.

 

Sometimes we don’t know that we’re fighting in there,

And sometimes we’re only too keenly aware –

And though all these battles aren’t fought with a gun,

The battles are real, and the war’s never won.

 

Sometimes, we will feel worn right down to the bone –

Just understand that you’re never alone.

Some battles we’ll win, and some may leave us bruised:

To fight on is the only way we’ll never lose.

 

Stephen Tomkins
11 August 2018
Sydney

The Rime of the Modern Mariner

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Bill Watt de Heck
Sank right up to his neck
And, furthermore,
He was quite far from shore.
His life vest he’d left
In that old, rocky cleft –
He was Bill,
The hard-pleasin’ dill.

Bill’s luck was good,
And though he understood
That his chances were fading
(No chance of him wading),
He felt God on his side,
And he still had his pride!
He was Bill,
The hard-pleasin’ dill.

Out further he floated,
By a lifeguard was noted,
A chopper dispatched,
His location it matched.
They lowered a swimmer
But Bill viewed this dimmer –
He was Bill,
The hard-pleasin’ dill.

The closer he moved,
The more Bill disapproved.
“Wrap this round your chest
And hold on to my vest.”
Bill said with a sigh,
“I’m not that kind of guy!”
He was Bill,
The hard-pleasin’ dill.

On he proceeded,
The shoreline receded.
Some dolphins swam by,
With their all-knowing eye,
“Feel free to climb on”
But Bill bade them gone –
He was Bill,
The hard-pleasin’ dill.

A fish boat arrived,
Glad to find Bill alive.
Of his adventure they knew,
To his rescue they flew.
“I’m still not regrettin’
That I won’t climb no nettin’!”
He was Bill,
The hard-pleasin’ dill.

Bill finally found land
At St John’s, Newfoundland.
By then he was frozen –
‘Twas the fate he had chosen.
They laid him to rest
On a hill facing west –
He was Bill,
The hard-pleasin’ dill.

With this cautionary tale,
They began to regale
All the fishers, well-wishers
And seafoody dishers
Lest his madness recurred
And sure rescue demurred –
He was Bill,
The hard-pleasin’ dill.

Stephen Tomkins
30 August 2018
Sydney

 

 

 

Choices

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School-Choice-HQ

Long ago, I’d come to dread

The choices looming up ahead.

Now the intersection’s clear,

The day of reckoning is here.

Soon there’ll be no turning back,

Once I choose the narrow track.

Steep and winding it will be

But it’s the only one for me.

When I pass around the bend,

I’ll not see you again, my friend.

Let no one your decision make –

For only you the path can take.

 

Stephen Tomkins

17 July 2018

Shanghai

Take a Chance

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I’ve got your back, you’ve got mine –

Lived that way, life would be fine.

But sadly, that’s not how it works

Though that could be one of life’s sweet perks.

 

We view each other with grim suspicion,

Relying on some weird intuition.

Instead of giving each other a chance,

We engage in some kind of deadly dance.

 

You know, we might just be surprised,

Our neighbourly opinion might be revised.

We might find ourselves a brand-new friend –

One on whom we can depend.

 

And isn’t that what we truly seek,

As from behind our wall we peek?

Lower the drawbridge, the portcullis raise.

Watch the sun break through the haze.

 

Stephen Tomkins
26 July 2018
Sydney

 

 

So Gourmet

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Glutinous globules of glippity Glop

Slipped from the spoon with a slippity slop.

Sad-eyed and sorry, I sat there and looked

As I tried to decide if the Glop had been cooked.

 

Now, I’m not the type who is wont to complain,

Though I started to wonder if I’d gone insane.

The Glop on the plate simply sat there and stared

And asked to be eaten if I could be dared.

 

Revulsion and Hunger began to debate

The outcome of eating the Glop on the plate,

Which seemed to enjoy the whole querulous question,

In anticipation of my indigestion!

 

Finally, my hunger I just had to sate,

So, I started to pick at the Glop on the plate.

Now I must confess that it wasn’t so bad

Though I doubt it will ever become the next fad.

 

All through the night and right up to the dawn,

The Glop I had eaten fought hard to be reborn!

Somehow, my dinner I managed to keep down

But I swore that I’d never return to that town!

 

Stephen Tomkins

1 April 2017

Sydney (not where I ate the Glop!)