Below is the poem entitled Bronco Don visits which was written by poet
JOHNSON. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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Bronco Don visits….
A cancer took my father away,
The smokers curse he had to pay,
But he returns, we hear him still,
When he pulls my big toe,
With subtle skill,
As he did when I was little,
“Come on boy up you get,”
In dream we are horse riding yet,
Left handed holes in the Coolabahs set,
Where the Cubbie tribe got bird eggs,
The latch behind the door did flog,
It woke me up from sleep, agog,
I asked what is it mate
“ring your mother she is upset”
so I phoned little Nelly then,
she was tortured in her mind,
so we talked for an hour, when?
2 am the bloody time,
and back to sleep again,
just a sitting in my chair,
a tug on hand I felt it there,
the voice it came “come with me”
white ants, bubbled paint I did see,
in my purple room the termite tracks,
renovations for the slack?
The smell of smoke the uncoiled whip,
When he is around the ether slips,
Cecily took a photo of the wall,
A face appeared looking part of it all,
Like a painted mask it fits,
Bronco Don does visit,
As time and space recalls,
yes the old veil slips between n betwixt,
where souls have cause to wonder,
old friends reach back ,
through soft veil cracks,
like Bronco Don down-under....