The Prime Minister's Parade Poem by Ronni ManoaHofbauer

Australia's leaders, a curious crew,
Like ships on a sea, some steady, some new.
From Menzies, the captain, with charts in his hand,
To Albanese, the latest to take command.

Menzies was the lighthouse, bright and tall,
Guiding the ship through the rise and the fall.
But oh, his map? It was grand and old,
Like a treasure chest, full of stories told.

Then came Holt, a swimmer, bold and free,
Who vanished one day like a fish in the sea!
'Where's the PM? ' they asked with a grin,
Turns out he dove in but never came in.

Gorton took over, a bit like a boat,
He steered it, but sometimes he'd rock and he'd float.
Like a weathered sailor, he'd grin and say,
'Guess we'll navigate this the Aussie way! '

Then came Whitlam, the man with a plan,
A champion of change, a new-age man.
He opened the sails and caught the breeze,
But some said his ship was too quick to please.

Fraser was next, like a steely old rig,
A sturdy old ship, trying not to dig.
He weathered the storms, kept sailing ahead,
Though his crew often wished for a quieter bed.

Hawke, the skipper, a true Aussie bloke,
With a beer in one hand and a joke that would poke.
He steered the ship with a wink and a smile,
Made the nation laugh and ran things in style.

Keating, the mate with a sharp, cheeky tongue,
He sang of reform while his rivals had none.
Like a sailor with flair, he'd dance on the deck,
With visions of wealth that some thought a wreck.

Howard came in, a sailor quite neat,
With policies steady and votes at his feet.
He sailed the calm seas, kept it all in line,
But when storms came, he'd just sip his wine.

Rudd was the captain who rocked the old boat,
With a promise of change, he'd quickly devote.
But like waves crashing wildly on the shore,
He couldn't hold steady, they asked for more.

Gillard took helm, a ship strong and bright,
A captain, a woman, leading the fight.
She sailed through the tempests with courage and grace,
But some said the ship had too many a chase.

Abbott, the sailor, with a "no-nonsense" plan,
He'd navigate sternly, like a tough, hard man.
With his bike and his beard, he'd steady the crew,
But occasionally, the ship would capsize, too.

Turnbull was next, a suave captain bold,
Who promised a new wind, but the ship grew cold.
He tried to change sails, but the wind blew too strong,
And the crew grumbled, "How long can this go on? "

Now Albanese, the latest in line,
With a new course to chart, it seems just fine.
He's plotting the stars, the horizon in view,
But don't worry, mate—he'll stay steady and true.

Australia's leaders, a motley old fleet,
With quirks and with talents, none quite complete.
Through rough seas and calm, they've all had their say,
Navigating the winds in their own unique way!