They firmed up their friendship in training, their mateship was sealed on the Front,
‘Mid deadly cross-fire and septic pariah and the brutal constraints of “the stunt”.
The battle had raged and consumed them, the fighting intense in their zone,
That night to the tents came a warhorse, Ben’s blood spattered “Ajax”, alone.

And Tom to the C.O. petitioned. The captain, he listened and said,
“That sector’s baptised son, and christened, and consigned to the dying and dead.
“And soldier, permission is censured, I can’t spare another young life”,
“Deny me a further slim Scripture, filed under, ‘Letters to Wife’.”

Tom snapped his heels and saluted, “I’m sorry Sir, I’ve just got to go.”
And the captain remembered a mission on a bleak veldt a lifetime ago,
And a certain sad smile claimed the captain as the lantern light bled from the fray.
He wished Tom a speedy recovery. With his blessings, Pip cantered away.

The moon checker flecked on the corpses and mottled the bronzed armaments,
All twisted and still and distorted and smelted in grim monuments.
Soon, faces presented familiar, then changed into faces of friends.
Tom’s heart stopped for ages, the second he found the pale face that was Ben’s.

He felt through Ben’s greatcoat and stiffened then hauled his mate’s weight on Pip’s back,
And the enemy sensed, in that moment, two heroes at work on the track.
Tom entered the tent of the captain and eased the dead body to ground.
A general and staff were assembled and acknowledged the moment profound.

And the captain, he offered condolence and tendered a solemn refrain
On the noble bequeath of the rescue and Tom’s action that ended in vain.
“In vain, Sir?” intoned the young soldier. His statement slit canvas and corps,
And washed out amongst the stark faces and the trenches that led to the war.

“Ben was alive when I found him. His gallant heart stopped on the way,
“And in your note home to his Mum Sir, there’s some things I’d like you to say.
“Tell her, his last thoughts were with her; that Tom Turner will bury her son,
“And tell her his last words to me Sir, were … ‘Mate, I just knew that you’d come’.”

Robert Raftery ©

“It’s our baby who’s dying”, the fathers are crying. The mothers are strangled with grief.
And some come in nameless, abandoned and blameless, conscripted to life rendered brief.
And the reaper that waits them is taut as he takes them and shies from the bright, blazing rod,
Of the angel that bids the world’s loneliest kids, to the all-loving arms of their God.
And a sad little teddy sits patient and ready, his face is set pallid and drear.
Been rejected of late by that same little mate with
“AIDS…INFECTIOUS…KEEP CLEAR”.

Was it nature or God who turned the first sod to extract this enforced retribution?
Some reason as ‘clear’, and venture to sneer, “It’s the gays’ and the molls’ contribution.”
All mankind will cringe at this terrible binge and the toll that will cause us to dread it.
And Christ help the one – the daughter or son – who knowingly options to spread it.
And some time tonight you might wake in a fright at the sight of life’s great Overseer
As He touches the face of the whole human race … and writes
“AIDS…INFECTIOUS…KEEP CLEAR”.

There’s a lesson to learn at this century’s turn, for the warnings are posted and clear -
We must sever the need for the lust and the greed and work on the want and the fear,
To unredden the rags of the old battle flags and slit the red jug’lar of war.
We’re as much to blame, for this trans-global shame, as the dealer, the gay or the whore.
And some time if we ready, the eyes of a teddy will not see the pain or the tear
On the face of a tot or a sign on his cot that says,
“AIDS… INFECTIOUS… KEEP CLEAR”.

Robert Raftery ©

You’ve done the hard yards, you’re the cream o’ the crop,
You’re a fighter, you’re focused and you’ll pump ’til you drop!
Tomorrow you’ll churn and the water will boil as you tear at the air and you rip at the soil.
Now go out and blitz ‘em, but be in no doubt, for Australia to win
“Let the animal out!”

They’ll haunt you, they’ll taunt you, they’ll spit in your space. Then I’ll watch as our flag paints a smile on your face,
As the cameras engage you and capture that tear, and your mates all around you erupt in a cheer,
Stand proud mate and wear it by the rings and the flames
And cherish your moment of gold at the Games!

But you’re thinkin’ about home and your thoughts start to roam,
Can’t really believe that you’re here!
You’re on hallowed ground and that magical sound and the world trembles …
Echoes that cheer!
As that rectangled rag of our great Aussie flag rockets above and … you’re there!
You’re the pride o’ the fleet and the world’s at your feet and our anthem’s shot blastin’ the air.

“Australians all let us rejoice, for we are young and free,
With golden soil and wealth for toil,
Our home is girt by sea.
Our land abounds in nature’s gifts, of beauty rich and rare;
In history’s page, let every stage, Advance Australia fair.”

Huh! You reckon I weighted you down that long track and at times I’ll admit that I did!
But mate I can tell you right here and right now, I’m as proud as a parent can be … of a kid.
I don’t want to tell you I love you, but I’ll tell you right now I won’t fail yer!
And nor will the crew of that bloody great ship that’s just parked out the front called ‘Australia!’

So go! My golden beauties! Don’t put your gold on hold!
Now is the moment! This is YOUR time! And I love you as much as I would were you mine!

Get out there, get at ‘em and rip ‘em apart with the blood of you country ablaze in your heart.
The medals are yours mate, to have and to hold; and mate … stuff the silver …
We’re Goin’ for Gold!

Robert Raftery©

The fairytale Princess with a yearning to teach,
With the commoner’s touch, not a “Royal” out of reach.
And now in a casket her body has come,
Draped in a flag to a “rum-a-tum-tum”,
The renegade royal with no need for a throne,
For the whole world has given her one of her own.

And slow the gun carriage moves on past St. Paul’s,
The planets at anchor around its great walls.
The Thames threads in silence the sad hearts of men.
There’s a tear in the eye on the face of “Big Ben”.
To her slipper of crystal the palace would ring,
Through her lyric of love she would teach it to sing.

In death joins immortals like Monroe and Dean,
For the commoners crowned her at heart as their Queen.
And all the dead Poets and all the dead kings
Who have written of love, and have ruled worldly things,
Through all of their empires where suns never set,
Will worship a Princess we’ll never forget.

Now walking behind her are five men in black,
Wishing to Christ they could turn the night back.
In step and in mourning this vice regal wing,
A Duke and two Princes, a brother, a King?
And on through old London, the horses’ hooves carry,
As a billion arms ache to hold William and Harry.

“The Stone Walls of Windsor are Wailing Tonight”,
Our Princess Diana has left in the night.
The candlelight’s fading on Elton’s sad song,
Her beauty surrounds us … can’t believe that she’s gone.
But she’s left us clear searchlights in twin vaulted joys,
The flash of her eyes … in her two little boys.

Robert Raftery ©

There are those who’d like to shut us down… and crush our way of life,
They’d like to siphon off that spirit… that we’ve forged through times of strife.
The things we’ve loved and nurtured, for from the very start,
We were built from a part of every race… that’s why we’re a race apart.

We’ve assembled like an anthem in one big, sharp, national prick,
To puncture terror’s bubble, and Give the Fear the Flick.

We’ve all had a guzzler’s gutful, of all this terror talk,
And I reckon it’s time to settle down, and give the fear… the fork,
Just suck it in… the majesty, as the Maker had intended,
Let’s refocus the fear, and re-engineer… the Banjo’s “Vision Splendid”.

See… our Nation’s never learned to beg, to fetch, or stay, or sit,
And there’s invincible Aussie armour tucked inside our terror kit,
Let’s ensure we bring our searchlights, to bear on the fringe minority,
But adjust the score… when the sirens roar… from the ranks of the silent majority.

Now just take a look around you… let these mansions fill your eyes,
If paradise was put on earth… this place Australia would take first prize,
We’ve forged a global example, of optimism’s glue,
The glue that welds us together… and together… we’ll see this through.

So let’s keep the billies boiling, ‘cross this great Southland we share,
And let’s put our hearts in the kitbags of our soldiers… when they’re “Over There”,
For sacrifice… is sometimes the price… for… “Beauty Rich and Rare”,
So stuff the strife, let’s just log onto life… As we Advance Australia Fair.

Robert Raftery©