The man is not a scholar,
but a gentleman is he,
he's mainly taught himself all that he knows,
he has watched the world in detail,
he hasn't missed a trick,
and now the pupil whom life taught
is skilled in verse and prose.
He did not go to ‘Uni.’
to get a gold degree;
instead he went to ‘life itself’
and learnt ‘Poetic Mastery’.
He studied all its ‘How’s and whys '
then proved that he could empathise.
He has been blessed with heart so wise,
which he uses readily,
(again and ‘gain and ‘gain).
His eyes -they are just English eyes,
they’ve seen their share of rain,
but HIS can find, when MOST are blind,
‘the sunny side’ of,even,pain.
And his ears? they hear the softest cry,
of the tree that weeps,
or an old folks sigh,
or the music of a dancing leaf
as it waltzes him its last ‘goodbye’.
And his hands?
they are but workman’s hands,
(the early rising kind)
but they hold the skill of a master
when they write the tales out from his mind.
His- are tales to make one holler,
his- are writes to make one laugh,
and there are some that he has done
that stamped a deeper gallant path.
Some( of many hundred)
will make you want to weep,
some will make you tingle,
but NONE of them will make you sleep.
His are stories of invention-
a self-taught man’s surmise;
enthusiastic scribblings
oozing mottoes- always wise.
He’s a little bit of Shakespeare
with a scallywags façade,
and I would bet if ‘Will' were here,
he’d call Steve Ralph:‘The bard’.

P.s.

I know that if the day should come,
when there be no more stars,
I’ll just have to look to where you are,
S.Ralph ,you're a poetic star.
YOU have THAT light,
it’s there in every line you write,
and I must take my hat off,
to those verses you have done,
and ‘I want to be an Aussie’,
it is just an example of one,
but ALL of them are marvellous,
and all I do adore
so... Thank you, for the words you share,
and please sir...give me...MORE.