The Crocodile
By Tom Barker
Fred was a bit of a wanderer, and it's often been said,
he's rather go a fishing, than lay at home in his bed.
He'd get his tackle ready, and chucked it all in the ute,
then with a nod and a whistle, off to the creek he'd shoot.
The water was quite cloudy, and the day was really hot,
and Fred was not the only one, who fished upon this spot.
Just across the muddy creek, and basking in the sun
a ruddy great salt water croc, and Fred had forgot his gun
Fred knew he was being watched, as into that muddy creek,
he slung his hook with a worm, his supper so to seek.
He watched to see the crocodile, as into the murk it slid,
so he took off leaving his line behind, and into his ute he hid.
The sun went down that evening, and it became quite dark,
Fred thought," I'm going to give up fishing, stuff this for a lark"
And glancing out of the window, he saw that toothy gape,
of that enormous saltwater crocodile, as it thwarted his escape.
Fred thought of all his past mistakes, and knelt in prayer to God,
"please forgive me all my sins, I know I've been a sod.
But God just wasn't listening, perhaps he'd gone fishing too,
so since he got no answer, Fred had to think of something new.
He could not go forward, or he would be in the creek,
sideways was out the question, because the ground there was too weak.
The only way was backwards, but the big croc lay in his path,
and now in his own perspiration, Fred was having a bath.
The moon and stars were shining, and to Fred there was the rub,
all his mates and his missus would be suppin' down at the pub.
"I wonder where is old Fred tonight, it's not like him to be late"
barkeeper's sigh, it's time he were nigh, he's got a pretty full slate.
Fred fell asleep in his utility, because he was all tuckered out,
but as he felt the truck lurch , he awoke with a yell and a shout.
"Rack off you ugly back stud I'm not your midnight snack",
but looking in the rear view mirror a view of the croc it did lack.
So starting up his engine, with a sigh it coughed and caught,
and Fred thought stuff the fishing line, another one can be bought.
So spinning wheels and flying mud, out of the mud he crawled,
when he got home and told his wife, she hugged him tight and bawled.
Years passed by and Fred got older, and in the hospital he met Tam,
and the tale of the salty croc came out, while sharing sandwiches of Spam.
Then orderlies came and with a heave, to the trolley they had him pinned
but just before they wheeled him off, Tam held up his hand and grinned.
"I wonder why in great letters, someone in white paint for a lark"
"has written so neat on the trolley, Property of Crocodile Park".
Poor old Fred turned quite pasty, and looked at Tam a little odd,
"shute" he said in a whisper, so this is how they get rid of a bodd".
|
The End
Copyright Tom Barker2000, All rights reserved
all characters are fictitious in this poem and no reference is intended to any
person living or otherwise.
|