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A culinary tour-de-force,
Is sardines and tomato sauce,
And once upon a time I was fan.
In point of fact I thought it wise
To stock emergency supplies,
So into the Nissan toolbox went a can.

For many months I drove about
And never had the toolbox out;
Without a hitch I travelled near and far,
But then, it couldn't be denied
That something horrible had died,
And not beside the road, but in the car !

I searched the Nissan high and low,
Wherever wounded snakes might go,
Or where a rat could crawl away to die,
Until at last, in sheer despair,
I saw that toolbox lying there,
So thought I'd better give it one last try.

I opened up the metal lid
And nearly fainted when I did,
Beneath that pestilential Devil's brew;
An odious, malignant smell,
Straight from the rotting bowels of Hell.
(It hit me like a lump of four-by-two.)

That sardine can that I forgot,
Was opened up and left to rot;
Punctured by a sharpened tool somehow,
And even though I scrubbed it well,
I couldn't wash away that smell;
It lingers in the Nissan even now.

* * *

So if we meet along the track,
And should you offer me a snack,
I'd gladly share a plate of ham and beans,
Sinkers and jam, wallaby stew,
Or even pan-fried cockatoo,
But please, don't try to tempt me with sardines !

Keith Lethbridge. July 07 2004

Life is a long, long journey;
A challenge in so many ways.
For all the great joy of being alive,
There are bound to be difficult days.
We dream of a little green valley
Where rippling crops never fail,
And the love of a beautiful lady,
When we rest at the end of the trail.

Just think of that youthful indulgence,
When we wasted our lives in a rut,
But how can a person gain wisdom
Without a few kicks in the gut?
Dear friends, please forgive all my failings;
Just let the fond memories prevail,
For I want you beside me forever,
When we rest at the end of the trail.

Keith Lethbridge July 11 2007