I mentioned to Joseph that for all of us the time comes when we must rest awhile. I’ve had a good and fortunate life, and a special part of it has been my association with Papua New Guinea and its people, who I regard as barata na susa tru. It doesn’t matter where we were born; it only matters who and what we are.

Joseph Tambure - “May our written words and yours live on for generations, as is meant to be"

Michael dedicates his poem, That Final Day, to all people “who have hearts for PNG and served to see change”. And in what follows I also  reproduce the poetry of Raymond Sigimet and Chips Mackellar, together with a poetic rejoinder from me.

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THAT FINAL DAY
By Joseph Tambure

At last that day arrives
In slow motion, not a surprise
To hang up my boots
To fold my pants up
To hang my hat
A feeling of fullness surrounds
Expecting it and now
That day finally arrives

This day is upon me
A reality that turns me back
To tidy up my table
To close my books
To shut down computers
A feeling of sadness overwhelms
But accomplishments triumphs
Today I reflect back many years

Today is a wonderful day
Started on a wonderful day
Finished off on a wonderful day
To lock away my toolbox
To say goodbyes to friends and colleagues
To finalise my departure
Gratitude and farewells side by side
A day I can't skip

Today is my last day
And will cherish for long
To shake and hug
To give and take presents
To recite stories of old
And stepping back into idleness
Good bye all, see you around
For my final day has caught me red-handed

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CHERISHED WORDS
By Raymond Sigimet

I still cherish those first words
Strings of harmonious chords

I will not forget their worth
Spoken with sincerest thought

I wonder about their measures
Entangled down many years

Gifting me revelations
Ticking off recollections

The thoughtful anecdotes
The inspirational quotes

These I cherish as I rummage
Through these maiden messages

Chiselled on life's pages
To live on down the ages

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THE GOOD RACE RUN
By Chips Mackellar

Well done Keith, you ran a good race,
Kept up for years at such a brisk pace,
And now you have earned a well deserved rest,
So sit back and remember you gave us your best,
With the Crocodile Prize a literary contest,
Which conferred upon us your gracious bequest,
That we should now write with flair and with skill,
And in years from now we'll remember you still.

For the PNG Attitude which you gave to us,
As a forum for writing and ideas to discuss,
And many a good yarn it published with pride,
About places in which our thoughts now abide,
And events we know we will never forget,
And the times we recall and the people we met,
And we owe it to you for your skill and your drive,
So God bless you Keith, may you continue to thrive.
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WORDS THAT WE WROTE
By Keith Jackson

Well thank you, Dr Chips, you laureate poet,
Who hates blank verse and ensures we all know it,
You writer of yarns that are wonderfully lusty,
R-rated stories of the curvaceous and busty.

Also a fine poem, it's called The Last Patrol,
We all must respond to the call of that roll,
But before this ensues, and we finally pass,
We can consider with pride that we got off our arse.

And brimful of youth's spirit (and the hard stuff as well),
We took to New Guinea and did pretty well,
A nation was built and, despite all the blether,
We did it all right and we did it together.

So when the time comes and the eulogies are read,
And instead of dead drunk we are quite simply dead,
A legacy awe-inspiring we've left in our wake,
Papua New Guinea, it was no piece of cake.

Back then in the tropics, the days of our youth,
Hard ones but good ones, and that is the truth.
Now names unremembered, no statues of note,
But wait, there's the words, the words that we wrote.