Our Dad, best known as Willie
To those who loved him well
Was born too soon, at Merino
But thrived and lived to tell
The story of his granny
And how she did the trick
With a warm box in the oven
And some whisky flavoured milk.
The firstborn Gunning grandchild
Soon joined by sweet Lorraine
The clan spread wide across the west
From Malden to Coleraine
His favourite Aunt was Agnes
(Of underwear renown!)
But close came Jean, and Mary
Who hailed from Portland town.
At Stawell the family settled
And a baker’s life began
With horse and cart delivering
Fresh bread about the town.
Then railways took Dad’s fancy
And a lifelong love affair
With Mum or trains, we're not too sure
Both loved beyond compare.
Another lifelong passion
He played with great pizzazz
On trumpet or on saxophone
His favourite music – Jazz
For many nights as children
We remember falling asleep
To the sounds of the Duke, or Ella,
Or Louis with voice so deep.
His music took him many places
The best of mates were made
Under gum tree or in concert halls
In harmony they played
We recall him with the baton
All arms and legs, and feet
But when he held the winning cup
That really was a treat.
His ‘enlightening conversations’
Usually on a Friday night
When Bert would come with fish ‘n’ chips
And scallops cooked just right
Our home was always filled with folk
Who came from near and far
Our mum would make the meal go round
While father ran the bar!
The years passed by and time marched on
As one by one we left
His Shire keys he handed in
An gladly took his rest
Came to Geelong, and built anew
A home in which to dwell
With grandkids gathered at his feet
His new life’s been pretty swell
He taught us what to value
Truth, love and honesty
To give our best in all we do
And accept what’s meant to be
So raise your glass, one final cheer
For we’ve been truly blessed
To have a Dad like Willie
The finest and the best.