Poems 22

On hearing of Tom’s Seccession


Sometimes as I wander, the lone road before me-

          The highway, the byway, the green lanes of yore

How often a feeling of longing comes o’er me

          For days that are gone, and companions no more

Six years together – in time but a minute

Yet what would I give to keep all that was in it!


Vibrant my memory, rings yet the laughter

          Of many a jest that we passed by the way.

It’s value was light until in the day’s after

          Now what would I yield for just one fleeting day!

Six years together – in time but a minute

Now what would I lose to gain all that was in it!


And oft when I’m roaming, the lone road before me,

Old scenes do I see, as in days of yore

And there is a feeling of sadness comes o’er me –

I long for my comrade – my comrade no more

Six years together, in time but a minute

Yet what would I give to have all that was in it!


Old chum just a line, it’s my mode of expression

          Excuse it – you know what I mean it to be

Time that has gone has left such an impression

          That this is a duty demanded of me.

Six years together – old chum we went through it

But six years – six years – glad again would I do it!              July 1929


People who Wouldn’t be Missed          (With due respect to W S Gilbert)


As it seems to me desirous that a clearance must be made

          I’ve got a little list, I’ve got a little list

Of certain individuals who, if they should get mislaid,      

          I’m sure would not be missed, they never would be missed

First the motor-cycle speed fiend, when we get him it is clear

          (With a slight amount of pressure) would consent to disappear

And the Emigration League should support me to a man,

          For notice the consistency and beauty of the plan –

Though I’ve picked enough to please a rabid emigrationist

They’d none of ’em be missed, they’d none of ‘em be missed.


Chorus:  We’ll put ‘em on the list though it’s likely they’ll resist

               For they’’ none of ‘em bbe missed, they’ll none of ‘em be missed.

When the hogging owner driver of the type that ‘let’s it rip’

           With his curious mental twist, I’ve got him on the list

And the anti-cyclist policeman who has Britain in his grip

          He never would be missed, oh no, he’d not be missed:

The juggling journalistic chaps who are strangers to the truth

And gull the public constantly about our ill-spent youth;

The dear old dames who bawl about the ‘dangers of the road’

I know a desert island where I’d like to see them stowed

The fanatical coroner and the hooting motorist

They never would be missed, the never would be missed. 


Chorus:  We’ll put ‘em on the list etc


The dismal sympathiser whom I owe a strong desire

To pommel with my fist, I’ve got him on the list

The profitter whose wiles we don’t admire

He never would be missed, he never would be missed:

The sleek contented caterer, and eke the garage man

Who, when he gets us helpless, he will rob us all he can

The parrot-crying rear lightest, the dazzle fiend as well

The lumbering lorry driver who would send us all to hell

Yet he graciously consents to allow us to exist –

He never will be missed, I’m sure he’ll not be missed.


          Chorus: We’ll put ‘em on the list etc                                 July 1926


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