Don Johnson Poet Ballad

Ex Drover, Me

Ex Drover, me

As the cleaner sweeps the street,
And the saddle leather squeaks,
cos he's riding ol Darkie,
an his mind is with the herd.
He remembers the cold nights,
Leaps from his swag at daylight,
To stand by the fire ,
For some breakfast egg n bacon.
Yes bloody sah!

An the coffe black as char,
Sucked from his quartpot , jar.
And the toast is a burning ,
Like a bad cigar.
Is burning ,
And the sun comes up, aha.

So we’ll move them poley bullocks,
On the grassy stock route millet,
And the bore drain will water ,
Them poley bullocks shortly,
Till we get to Mungathar.

Don Johnson 8-aug-11

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Francine Roberts August 8, 2011 at 1:20 AM another great rhyme here Don, much enjoyed

John Smith August 8, 2011 at 1:19 AM Great write. Got the words; now we need the music.

Nette Onclaud August 8, 2011 at 12:58 AM to use ballad and swing this descriptive moment is really amazing, don.. now, this is a real stunner! more! :) huggs, nette

Jack Ross Jr. August 7, 2011 at 9:15 PM Excellent write Mate..everybody loves them cowboys and them bullocks...ya need to get a good cook mate....lol....Good on you Don I say!!!!!!