[Editor: This poem, by L. E. Homfray, was published in The Daily Telegraph (Sydney, NSW), 19 December 1925.]
Frankie, My Brother
Frankie is my little brother,
He soon will be two years old;
His eyes, they are like the blue bells,
And his hair is almost gold.
I tell him to call me Dossie,
And don’t you think it’s a shame,
That all he will say is “Doo-da,”
And that is a silly name.
He calls all my dollies “lulas,”
And “goo-gahs” he calls the chooks,
Then, when he is talking of “wabbas,”
I know that he means the ducks.
Then sometimes we have a party,
With cakes and afternoon tea,
And we sit at our little table,
The dolls, and Frankie, and me.
Then, when we are tired and sleepy
And mother takes us to bed,
He kneels on the rug beside me,
And bends down his curly head.
And, while I am saying “Our Father,”
Dear Frankie tries hard to pray,
But “Mumma, Dadda, and Bubba,”
Is all the prayer he can say.
— L. E. HOMFRAY.
The Daily Telegraph (Sydney, NSW), 19 December 1925, p. 8
chook = (slang) chicken