SINCE July, Craig Penny’s poems, sent as letters to the editor, have been an almost weekly feature in The Euroa Gazette.

The 64-year-old Terip Terip man made his debut in this paper with a limerick about a fire that revealed a hydroponic cannabis set-up, which had been reported under the front-page headline: “Fire reveals secret Euroa cannabis house”.

Mr Penny’s poem summed up the story perfectly: “The ‘cannabis house’ of Euroa / Provided a place for the grower / Of weed, by accounts, / In generous amounts; / The police are in search of the sower.”

This masthead was delighted, and curious: who was this mystery talent hidden in the hills, with a surname that seemed to mirror the old-timey English charm of his poems?

Last week, the Penny finally dropped, descending from Terip Terip to Euroa for a tell-all interview.

Mr Penny credited the hymns he was exposed to at St David's Presbyterian Church, at the border of Terip Terip and Ruffy, for instilling in him a love of rhymes from a young age.

He said the first poem he wrote was at age six, while he was in Eaglehawk, near Bendigo, for Christmas holidays with his grandparents, who he called Nana and Bampa.

“I remember writing a poem and telling it to my Nana, and she wrote it down,” Mr Penny said.

“When the Eaglehawk Baptist Church ladies’ guild started again, she shared it with their group.”

Mr Penny remembered the poem had been about world peace, concluding: “No bomb to fall from up above / The whole world to be filled with love.”

At age seven, he asked his mum for a book of poems, which he received for his eighth birthday.

He has kept a well-worn copy of the book, The Golden Treasury of Poetry compiled by Louis Untermeyer, to this day.

The volume contains some of his favourite poets, including Alfred Noyes, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and Leigh Hunt.

“I tend to prefer more traditional stuff,” Mr Penny said.

“For me, poetry should be something that's either beautiful or has a bit of pathos or humour.

“And I prefer something short and to the point, more than trying to overdo it.

“Too much of poetry is not a good thing, in my opinion.”

Free verse poetry is not his thing, either.

“You do get some interesting things that don't rhyme, but to me, poems rhyme, or most often should,” he said.

About three years ago, Mr Penny moved from Melbourne, where had lived and worked, back to his childhood home in Terip Terip to care for his elderly mother.

He has written poems here and there throughout his life – sometimes just to share with his family, occasionally for publication in a community newsletter.

A member of the Seven Day Adventist church since the 1990s, he has also written hymns.

Mr Penny said the headline referencing the “Euroa cannabis house” in July had sparked his first poem for the Gazette.

“I thought, ‘well, I could write something about that’,” he recalled.

“I didn't know whether that was the sort of thing [the paper] would like or not, so, I just thought, ‘oh, there's no harm sending it in’.

“But as [the editor] appreciates it, I thought I was glad to contribute.

“I've started a plastic folder with inserts I'm cutting out of the Gazette article that sort of inspired it, and then I'm putting the poem in the same leaf.”

Indeed, it is a good idea to save one’s pennies.

BEST OF CRAIG PENNY: EDITOR’S PICKS

The weed house

The 'cannabis house' of Euroa

Provided a place for the grower

Of weed, by accounts,

In generous amounts;

The police are in search of the sower.

EDITOR’S NOTE: This limerick responded to The Euroa Gazette’s July story, “Fire reveals secret Euroa cannabis house”.

*

A vision of America

As he seems on the verge of expiring,

Joe Biden should think of retiring.

He mutters and mumbles,

Forgets things and stumbles;

A spectacle hardly inspiring.

EDITOR’S NOTE: This limerick followed Joe Biden’s infamously bad debate performance.

*

Defiance

A nutter, loose and roaming free,

Took pot-shots at poor Donald T.

What motivated him to sin?

With Donald gone, then Joe might win.

But Donald lives another day;

He's tough as nails, or so they say.

With higher aims on his agenda,

Donald Trump will not surrender!

EDITOR’S NOTE: This poem followed the first assassination attempt against Donald Trump.

*

So says Inland Rail

At Inland Rail we get our way

no matter what the people say;

Euroa's Goods Shed's had its day,

for so says Inland Rail.

Though you should grovel on your knees,

we'll do exactly as we please;

accept defeat, and be at ease;

concede to Inland Rail.

We shall offer, as a token,

rubble from the shed we've broken;

so be content, for we have spoken

here at Inland Rail.

EDITOR’S NOTE: This poem followed the destruction of the Euroa Goods Shed.

*

Loudmouth Lidia

A senator, while at their work,

is allowed the odd foible or quirk;

but Lidia's raving

and much misbehaving

only make her to look like a jerk.

EDITOR’S NOTE: This limerick followed Senator Lidia Thorpe’s protest during the King’s visit to Australia.

*

The “redneck” sign

The author of the “redneck” sign

(attempting to be witty?)

has cast a vile aspersion which,

we must say, is a pity.

That they could be so thoughtless and,

undoubtedly, inane,

gives every indication that

they've only half a brain.

EDITOR’S NOTE: This poem followed someone hanging a sign reading “REDNECK ALLEY” in Euroa next to corflutes promoting council candidates.

*

Who is Tom?

Who is this Tom of Hotshots' fame?

Where's he from, and what's his name?

His family, also in the dark,

Are not cognizant of his lark.

Is this a Tom that you might know?

Do you want to Longwood go

On the chance that you'll discover

That, in fact, he is your brother?

If to attend you are disposed,

His secret life might be disclosed;

But brace yourself lest you see more

Than you have really bargained for.

EDITOR’S NOTE: This poem responded to a report on the Sydney Hotshots, a male stripper group, visiting Longwood. The Gazette’s report quoted a stripper named Tom, who said he would not share his last name because he had family in the region who did not know his profession.