Sunday, November 4, 2012




Not a word heard often now, 
But back in World War Two,
This was a word that was widely known
And often spoken, too.
Quisling came from Norway;
And when the Germans came
He became a traitor
And gained a sort of fame.
He cooperated willingly
With Hitler and the rest,
And, afterwards he stated
That he'd thought it for the best.
But he was executed
After the war was won,
And it could have been his infamy
Was really over and done.
But the newspapers in Britain
Rather liked his name
And they used it instead of 'traitor'
Because it meant the same.
Anyone could be a Quisling,
If they helped the enemy.
There were Quislings in every country;
Who acted traitorously.
Someone invented 'to quisle'
But this word was a dud.
But Quisling's name lives on and on,
Although 'his name is mud.'


(An Australian icon)

What a jewel of a creature!
What perfection in design!
Oh what symmetry and balance!
Oh what colour and what line!
As a brooch it would be perfect,
Set-off against the plainest white,
With it's legs splayed very neatly
And its red so very bright.
It's only very tiny
When found in its habitat;
And, at first, it's hard to realise
What you are looking at.
It's a very poisonous spider;
We don't like it in the least.
Sad to say, this Beauty
Is a really nasty Beast!

No comments: