


BOB
He was full of bull and banter and just oozed bonhomie
always took life at the canter on that fact most did agree
He was devilishly good looking and of that he was aware
and his eyes were like burnt chocolate – sweet caress in every stare.
He was big on bluff and barter and ’twas rare he’d pay a cent
for the goods that he was after, he’d con you before he went,
with his bargain tucked beneath his arm his promise in your ear
that he’d fix your fence on Monday, but ‘twas doubtful he’d appear.
His reputation slowly spread he’d get his wake up call
for all now were awake to him, and no more fools would fall
under his spell – his window dressing at last had seen better days
so from now on pay or piss off – we’re awake to cunning ways.
But the hardest hit was Mary for she loved this roguish bloke
though his habits caused her heartache and her heart he often broke.
She was over all his whitewash, all his fancy words and phrases
and sick to death of all his schemes and of his crazy fazes.
You’d best turn over a leaf Bob; I’m sharing news and views
of your neighbours and community who’ve had enough of you
and your endless machinations – they will run you out of town
on the mail boat to the mainland if you do not knuckle down.
Now I’m giving you fair warning that enough’s enough old Son
I know you think me besotted and I’m not the only one
but I’m wise to your carousing and your womanizing ways,
so resist, resign or be sacked now – you’ve reached the end of play.
The next morning found Bob long gone; he’d taken the best horse
and all the money from the tin - no surprise there of course.
They’ve seen him on the mainland, a tall sunburnt, handsome chap
but no one has told Mary – for the town don’t want him back.
Maureen Clifford © 11/12