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This poem is copyright (1995)
Viewing Grand Prix's on TV is my delight
Whether mid afternoon or late at night
I love to hear the roar That high-pitched whine
See chrome-plated engines shine
One day I read In the Herald-Sun
Melbourne the Australian Grand prix had won
They chose Albert Park It suits me fine
A racing circuit To design
Would you believe Some did complain?
Said from a Grand prix We had nothing to gain
Some protested When they cut down the trees
Yellow ribbons fluttered In the breeze
My neighbour and I Nearly came to blows
While watering the garden With the hose
He was as anti As I was pro
Said that the Grand Prix Just had to go
The park right now Is a bit of a mess
For how long I can't hazard a guess
But pretty soon now The grass'll be green
I can't wait for next year I am that keen
What a coup, Melbourne! Don't stop now
The Grand prix will be Your finest hour
On the grid the cars Make a deafening din
I can't wait For the race to begin
(not entirely autobiographical!)
------------(Peter Elliott)--------------
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