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.