To mark national Poetry Day on Friday, July 22, Hawke's Bay Today is celebrating local poets.
Over the next two Fridays, we'll be highlighting four local writers and their work. Today's featured writer is Dave Sharp.
Dave first began writing poetry at secondary school to entertain his classmates. He prefers to write in traditional, narrative poetry style, often in a humorous or semi-humorous mode.
He sees the famous Australian "Bush Balladeer" Banjo Paterson as providing a good model.
Dave has been an active contributing member of the Hawke's Bay Live Poets Society for 14 years.
In 2005 he published a collection of poems entitled Ballads for Blokes, and he has received many invitations to be a guest speaker.
My Dog's Ears, by Dave Sharp
The wind blew strong, as we struggled on,
My hound-dog Jess, and me,
At the ridge's crest, I did my best,
To hold on to gravity.
Then in sheer surprise, I rubbed my eyes,
For my dog swam in the air,
An amazing sight, off the ground alright,
Airborne I declare.
Ears spread out wide, like wings to glide,
Their aerofoil shape I saw,
What a gift, those ears had lift,
The dog's full weight they bore.
When her ears pulsate, she could aviate,
And bank just like a plane,
In a strong airstream, those ears supreme,
True flight they could attain.
Thus sprang a scheme, of a millionaire dream,
I made up a travelling show,
With supporting acts, and rich contracts,
Straight away in rolled the dough.
By the curtain set, an airflow jet,
Gave my dog the power of flight,
And in this gale, round the stage she'd sail,
As the crowd screamed in delight.
Jess was my pet, but I used no net,
For she had really got the knack,
With enough airspeed, she could glide indeed,
Out over the stalls and back.
We were interviewed, and the masses queued,
The world presses hotly running,
At our show folks looked, and then rebooked,
It was like the second coming.
Then one fateful night, when all seemed right,
Murphy's Law! You know the odds,
Jess soared out free, past the gallery,
Enchanting all those in the gods.
It was the height, of success that night,
You have never heard such cheers,
Then, oh, the shame, someone called her name,
And yes ... she pricked her ears!