G'day, my father and his three brothers served in the army in world war two, and they never spoke much about the war to us. Dad was (A.I.F) 20th Employment Company. and my old Uncle Roy use to mension Milan Bay. The old uncle use to live with our family as he was a single man and slightly affected from his time at war.
UNCLE ROY
He lived with us at Tamworth,
When i was just a boy,
A real old-time war veteran,
And we called him Uncle Roy.
He slept out on the verandah,
His smokes and Resches beer,
He kept mainly to himself,
And he never showed much fear.
He spent some time in Sydney,
And Havelock street Mayfield,
Loved to play a game of cards,
Could shuffle or could deal.
A joke we had with Uncle Roy,
With a dose of Epsom Salts,
And when the salts had taken cause,
Roy jumps up and bolts.
Now Uncle Roy is now at rest,
And he smoked up to the last,
The cancer took old Uncle's life,
Was a gentlman of the past.
And often times i think of him,
He was liked by everyone,
If Uncle Roy was still around,
There would be some fun!
Duncan Williams. (1995)
Uncle Roy
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- Posts: 104
- Joined: Thu Nov 11, 2010 9:16 am
- Location: Po Box 125, Tamworth. NSW. 2340.
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Re: Uncle Roy
G'day Duncan. What did you do, put epsom salts in his Reschs ? poor old fella 

Neville
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.