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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

Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

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Date: 8/8/2011 1:20:00 AM
another great rhyme here Don, much enjoyed
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Date: 8/8/2011 1:19:00 AM
Great write. Got the words; now we need the music.
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Date: 8/8/2011 12:58:00 AM
to use ballad and swing this descriptive moment is really amazing, don.. now, this is a real stunner! more! :) huggs, nette
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Date: 8/7/2011 9:15:00 PM
Excellent write Mate..everybody loves them cowboys and them bullocks...ya need to get a good cook on you Don I say!!!!!!
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