The Poetry Section

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Here's one I just whipped up

At last


End of life has come around
The old crew almost gone
Just a few still holding on
Awaiting times of rest

Be our turn soon
For we are next
To hold the flame on high
We'll bare the oldies sash

Our hobbling gate
Of creaking and groaning
Our silence held
Of due course moaning

Knowing quiet contemplation
Of facts that would astound
Secrets kept unto the grave
Treasures in the ground

Audiences ghosting sparse
As other lives awhirl
But happiness of inner kind
As lifetime doth unwind.

We'll see the world a changing
Afore our very eyes
A multitude of babies
Their love and all their cries

All things we've only dreamed of
Appearing in the world
With hints of oh amazing
The orchestration of will bring

We'll cosy up and hunker down
Look for ease of life
Find a patch that's beautiful
To live out our whole life

And when our time It comes around
We can be so astute
To contemplate or forborne fate
With readiness of will

With pen in hand
And love in mind
We therefore leave
Our final heart felt wish

Then our final cries of sorrow
As we leave this mortal coil
Turn all to blackest happiness
As we worry here no more

Silver
170830112022
 
Gold Fever.part 2.
When you awake in the morning the birds may be singing
Or the valley hushed and stilled
There's breakfast to be cooking
And the billy to be filled.

The days are filled with the swishing And rattling of your pan
As you scan it with your wide-eyes
Just as fast as you flamin can

And the lure is that this time You'll be lucky, just this flamin once
And you'll not go home with pockets empty.
And feeling like a dunce.

There's gold out there for the taking You just have to separate it from the dirt
To go prospecting with my friends,I'll swear I'd sell my flamin shirt. Copyright 2022.R.Langlands.
 
Here's one I just whipped up

At last


End of life has come around
The old crew almost gone
Just a few still holding on
Awaiting times of rest

Be our turn soon
For we are next
To hold the flame on high
We'll bare the oldies sash

Our hobbling gate
Of creaking and groaning
Our silence held
Of due course moaning

Knowing quiet contemplation
Of facts that would astound
Secrets kept unto the grave
Treasures in the ground

Audiences ghosting sparse
As other lives awhirl
But happiness of inner kind
As lifetime doth unwind.

We'll see the world a changing
Afore our very eyes
A multitude of babies
Their love and all their cries

All things we've only dreamed of
Appearing in the world
With hints of oh amazing
The orchestration of will bring

We'll cosy up and hunker down
Look for ease of life
Find a patch that's beautiful
To live out our whole life

And when our time It comes around
We can be so astute
To contemplate or forborne fate
With readiness of will

With pen in hand
And love in mind
We therefore leave
Our final heart felt wish

Then our final cries of sorrow
As we leave this mortal coil
Turn all to blackest happiness
As we worry here no more

Silver
170830112022
A bloody good job Silver...!
 
So often heard the tails of woe

Of lack of land to swing

The injustice and the wrong of it

As more gates no longer swing



So many believe it is their right

Upon any land to wander

Yet as they do so many times

The owners rights they squander



They buy the book and all the gear

To seek their fortunes bold

And as they do it slowly grows

The fever for the gold



The wife is promised fortunes

For all the money that is spent

Her not so convinced it’s viable

Or in fact will pay the rent



They lurk among the forums

In fact at times for years

Posting rarely in fact if ever

Unless fuelled by many beers


The questions asked in innocence

Or so it would appear

Wanting to know the special spot

Or at least point me somewhere near



The day has come the trip is on

For the golden rock they seek

They kiss the wife and pat the dog

Shall be gone for but a week



Who’s land it is they wander

They do not really care

Jack the station owner has heaps

So the least he can do is share



Fences, gates and signs

Blinded they do not see

If the station owner comes calling

I’ll just offer him a fee



They are all mighty bushmen

So remote does hold no fear

Plus they have the gadget

But unawares no one is near


Luckily Jack came looking

Curious as to tracks he found

Those with litter and cigarette butts

Found you beside a termite mound



You showed him no respect

For either his home or land

But still when most you need it

To you he extends his hand



How lucky it is you are

To now be back at home

Perhaps more thought will follow

Before again it is you roam


;) Catch you in a paddock perhaps ?
 
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Here is a favorite of mine - I found it on TROVE years ago whilst a member of a U3A group researching our local history - it was published in "The Mercury" Fitzroy, Victoria, on 26th August 1876.

The Driver's Song....
With tarpaulins unfolded at close of the day,
Behold us encamped by the side of our dray,
Forgetting the hills and the gullies we've passed,
Content to have reached a safe haven at last.
Forgetting the troubles of Blucher or Snip,
Who heeded no shouting, no swearing, or whip,
Who "jibbed" at the "pinches," and scarce gave a pull,
To help us along with our burden of wool.
The low flats are boggy, the rises are steep,
The "blind creeks" are dusty; the rivers are deep.
Old bullocks! You've work to do and be done,
And long is your stage from the rise of the sun,
Both offside and nearside are animals fine
,Fond looks from their mild eyes at times flash to mine,
With kindness I rule them, and this they well know.
As unyoked after toil to new pastures they go.
Good luck, fellow drivers wherever you steer.
May your lives from misfortune and bad grog be clear,
May you follow your calling with honour and pride,
And reach fortune's summit by means of greenhide.

by anonymous
 
Can anyone remember the tale of " Simpson and Delightful"? All I can remember is - " and he slew a thousand Philistines with the Ass bone of a Jew" I need it for a church recital. Thanks
 
Can anyone remember the tale of " Simpson and Delightful"? All I can remember is - " and he slew a thousand Philistines with the Ass bone of a Jew" I need it for a church recital. Thanks
I remember Ivan Skavinsky Skavar and Abdul Abulbul Amir
Maybe lookup "Samson slays a thousand Philistines with the jawbone of an ass"
 
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