If horses could dance!!


If horses could vote they’d rock the boat  and we’d all end up in the drink
If horses could dance they’d like to wear pants and the TAB would sink 

If horses could swear imagine the flare as they rounded out for the post 
If horses got paid imagine the fray as they argued on who got the most

If horses could talk imagine the squawk as they got in the stall for the cup 
If horses gamble imagine the shamble when bookies try to make 'em pay up

If horses could see just like you and me imagine the colours they’d choose
If horses could read imagine the feed they’d order so they’d never lose

If horses could fly imagine the cry as owners watched them fly to the sun
If horses were so high imagine the sigh as you saw all the falling dung

If horses could dance would the yearling’s romance and could foals end up in clink
If horses did vote they’d rock the boat and we’d all end up on the drink

COPYRIGHT -POETRY IN PARADISE -2012 -TRADE MARK NUMBER -1028534 

The Wedding Album 1959.
Inside that photo album is a record of my Dad and my Mum 
proof they were together, had a daughter, and three sons
In her wedding dress my young Mum wore a smile
she looked beautiful as she walked down the chapel aisle
most of the people in the photo's are not alive today
I find it hard to believe they were once young and free
I guess their married life I almost completely duplicated
inside that photo album is the wedding of me and Irene.

Both Grand Dads and Grandma's were there to celebrate you know what, I don't even know the exact date.
There's Aunties and Uncles that I've never met best friends they once had and now both forget
A wedding dress thats been lost by the way
Dad gave it to me once when his new wife wasn't home and my Mum thinks it was long ago, away thrown
My stepfather wouldn't like to see what happened that day he's thinks he's unique in almost every way
there's flowers and decorations and the rooms done up nice I think Mum was pregnant and Dad took her fathers advice
I look at the photo's and think that is where my family began I wonder about my Dad and if he ever felt like a man
Mum now says that was another person a lifetime ago and Dad hates mum and thinks she a mean old so and so
My parents were not role models, held tightly to their advice their parents were old fashioned and were never in my life

Inside that photo album is two total strangers to me
My own wedding album was never quite formulated
I don't look at those photo's with any sense of pride it reminds me of how many times they have lied
I have new goal for me in my life to be happy and dream to one day be able to say,
17/06/2012 Copyright Poetry in Paradise 1028534 

It ain't easy being me.

It's not easy being me always doing too many things at once 
I'm a male and ask my ol'school teachers a little bit of a dunce 
No one's ever heard me say that I know all the answers
But I'm always up for new things and I've taken lots of chances

It's not easy being me the only man in a house full of women
Trying to get a sleep in some day's is a little bit like I'm dreaming
A lift here a lift there, here again there again the taxi never ends
Dawn till dusk and then on a late night journey another daughter sends

It's not easy being me loving such a nice beautiful pretty lady 
when I'm coming from a past best described as a little bit shady 
Beauty and the beast at times comes to the for front of my mind 
Me all rough around the edges and Irene so sweet and kind

It's not easy being me looked up to by all you talented poets
My poetry is wanting and at times it's publicly hard to show it
I'm always on the look out for another venue where we can recite
this library is pretty nice but there's no sign of a tree and thats not right

It's not easy being me always getting asked to do another free recital but poetry is a centre part of my life and to me really really vital 
Getting to share my hobby regularly then paid fully in applause 
Poetry is my passion and spreading it through the world is my cause

It's not easy being me but then again you know, it's not all that bad
I look a little bit like me mum and nothing at all like me Dad
I get to see you all each month and we all get to share our poetic verse 
Life can be a struggle, but all in all it could surely be a whole lot worse.
COPYRIGHT POETRY IN PARADISE 2012 REG TRADE MARK NUMBER 1028534 

Poetry group, do I go or not go??/

I received a phone call not unlike some I've had before 
people enquiring about our poetry group
and wondering what lay in store

Is it a poetry lesson will you tell me if mine are good 
Do you dissect them very much
I want to come but I'm wondering if I should

Oh so you don't teach poetry you don't teach at all 
there's not one single lesson
then what are the people coming for ?

Don't they get bored you must get some funny looks 
Don't the people fall asleep
when you recite to them from books

Could I email or post you a poem or maybe two 
you can read them out please
then let me know what does the audience do

How do you choose the poems your going to read 
do you make the final decision
and is rhyming an essential need

Every month we write new poems that we want to share 
we look deep inside our hearts
then we let the world know how much we care

We write on the things in our lives that really matter 
we go around the group three times
before and after we sit and natter

Everyone gets applause and everyone has a turn 
no judging or critiquing
from each other I guess we learn

Yes I run a poetry group and yes I have no!!! qualification
My pedigree is Aussie mate
Our poets are legends in this nation COPYRIGHT POETRY IN PARADISE 2012 REG TRADE NUMBER 1028534 

KITCHEN POETRY


I’VE CLEANED THE KITCHEN 
I’VE WASHED THE DISHES
 MY HEART STILL MISSES 
WELCOME HOME EMBRACES 
LONG SOFT KISSES
I’VE EMPTIED THE RUBBISH 
EVEN CLEANED THE BIN 
WHAT IS THERE, WITH IN? 
AN EMPTY CHAIR THERE, TO SIT IN
I’VE BOILED THE KETTLE 
MADE A HOT DRINK 
WHAT DO I THINK?
IS IT AT ALL POSSIBLE 
TO DROWN IN THE SINK!!

COPYRIGHT BRETT GOUDY 1990 

MY HEART

There is a window inside my heart 
It’s dirty and hard to see
Its frosted and cracked
It hides the soul of me
Its bullet proof and six inches thick 
And made of tainted glass
It keeps inside my secrets
And every pain from the past
I’ve never tried to open it
I’m no good at being me
I always do what’s best for others
Not what best for me
I’m never honest with myself
I’ve never looked inside
I fear the window keeps back a beast 
I’ve struggled to keep inside
The glass is damaged now
And it’s lifting from the frame
I know the glass would be cleaner 
If I could proudly say my name
The window inside my heart
That shields me the real me
Should move to the front of my life 
Let the sun shine in to see.
COPYRIGHT JEFFREY.N.GOUDY 14/08/05 

When you talk about love.


It doesn’t have to be
love between a woman and a man
Love and passion can come from pride in your homeland
I really love Australia
It’s the place where I have roamed
This country is the best and it’s the only home I’ve ever known
John Williamson once said
Aussies should live to be four hundred
Then they could see this whole country and all its wonders
I think my country is changing
Our culture is slipping slowly away
Like being called a racist for waving our flag on Australia day
When the real Australians
Are finally backed up hard against the wall
Our fighting spirit will rise again and love and pride for our country will stand tall 

COPYRIGHT POETRY IN PARADISE 2012 REGISTERD TRADE MARK NUMBER 1028534 

When you talk about love.


It doesn’t have to be
love between a woman and a man
Love and passion can come from pride in your homeland
I really love Australia
It’s the place where I have roamed
This country is the best and it’s the only home I’ve ever known
John Williamson once said
Aussies should live to be four hundred
Then they could see this whole country and all its wonders
I think my country is changing
Our culture is slipping slowly away
Like being called a racist for waving our flag on Australia day
When the real Australians
Are finally backed up hard against the wall
Our fighting spirit will rise again and love and pride for our country will stand tall 

COPYRIGHT POETRY IN PARADISE 2012 REGISTERD TRADE MARK NUMBER 1028534 

Vincent the silk farmer!!
It’s 5 am and you can hear the faintest rustling sound
At Vincent’s mighty silk farm on the other side of town
The locals all scoffed when he put the mortgage down
They heard about his plans and they all thought him a clown
But they didn’t anticipate the strength of Scottish pride
Now they laugh no more as on his silky trail he does ride
He rounds them up every morning and around the shed they glide 
He gives them their favorite breakfast and their silk he does debride
His fences are all low for silk worms are not very strong
And he doesn’t need a electric wire around the only watering pond
He doesn’t need a sewerage system for their scats they do not pong
They just gets washed away in the rain making the lawn really come along
He has no need for branding irons he does so keenly brag
But he does need his spectacles for the placement of the tiniest name tag 
Every day he checks the trestles and adjusts the leaves that sag
He wears his RM Williams, his trusty akubra and his silky woven bag

Leaving the barn door open for birds is the thing he does most dread
But his wife keeps it closed for she listens closely to what is said
He never has too go far away from inside his wonderful shed
And every night with a nip of scotch he sings a shanty as tucks them into bed
He is a proud silk worm farmer when he gloats down at the bar
The locals think the crazy Scotsman sometimes goes a bit too far
“Iam the only silk worm farmer” he states as he pounds his fist upon the bar 
He has a T shirt and a sign above his gate that reads ‘Vincent’s silk bizarre’
So if you’d like to see a silk worm farmer going hard at his work 
See a heard of busy silk worms silking like they’ve gone berserk 
Then just go see my friend Vincent but never call him a jerk 
He’ll proudly show all his worms and boast of his every perk
Vincent is a silk worm farmer, and a farmer of great renowned
He has the only silk worm farm, over there on the other side of town 
So go and check your curiosity and then lay your $20 entry fee down
You’llsee Vincent running almost naked in his shed wearing only his‘royal’silky gown. 
COPYRIGHT POETRY IN PARADISE 18/11/2011 TRADE NUMBER 1028534