Best Old Work Poems

I reminisce, I miss....                                         ...

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An old man's crumbles........

I am an old man and no matter I say or do.
But still I am living with my stubbornness heart

I have complications with health history
and hospitals always welcome me

Sometime, my heart beats so hard and my veins are twisting me mad
But still...

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"The Folk Dance"
On the backs of well formed muscular miners 
Working hard in the trenches on a daily basis
For the men who need coal, fat cats and such
Dirty, sweaty and tireless toil try to wear them down 
Dehydration and soot inhalation runs rampant 
An epidemic...

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With a smile upon my face and a twinkle in my eye
I rode my sister's tricycle with an accomplished sigh 
Traveling as fast as my three year old legs could carry me
Feeling the wind in my hair, I was filled with joyous glee.

But my happiness...

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I've lived life hard, I've lived life full,

I wasn't the type that stood around and shot the bull.

Every lesson I learned, I learned complete,

Life was good but it wasn't always sweet.




Rigging up drilling rigs and tearing them down,

Moving from county to county and from town...

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She wanted a great big brand new house, among brand new other things,
and just to marry and be my spouse, she wanted great big diamond rings,
So I knew what she was about, when she wanted so much bling,
it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure...

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A faint outline appeared in the early morn 
a full moon still shed its light, dark shadows 
spread across the land casting an eerie 
shadow over the far distant hills. 
An old buckboard clattered along a dusty 
road bumping roughly over pot holes 
washed out...

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Living from day to day,
Trying to make life a better day.
Doing the best you can,
To keep food on your plate,
And cool air from your fan.

Bettering yourself ,
The only way you know how.
Constantly wiping,
The sweat from your brow.
Satisfying the same rude boss 
And customers working so...

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He started working leather when he was a lad
Stop by the saddle shop on his way home from school
He knew that was his first love
Old wood burning stove for heat, It was all the old shop had
The old saddle maker on his stool
Seemed like they...

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On the outer Paroo where most septics are few 
And the outhouse has still pride of place; 
Poor old Toby McPhee worked a small property 
With his son and his darling wife Grace. 
 
When the milking was due and the harvesting too, 
His son...

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ME AND THIS OLD TRUCK, IS HAULING OUR LAST LOAD.
DOWN THIS LONG HARD BUMPY ROAD.
IT TOSSES ME AROUND, AS IT SWAYS FROM SIDE TO SIDE.
NOW ME AND THIS OLD TRUCK IS ON OUR LAST RIDE

 I CAN MEMBER WHEN THIS OLD TRUCK WAS BRAND NEW.
I...

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His old hands were calloused from all the many years of work and toil.
   His life seemed to be his work and the never ending search for oil.
Seven days a week with no let up in sight,
   He manned those rigs...

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An old cowpoke throwed his leg over the well-worn saddle horn,
And tilted back his ten-gallon hat that was sweat-stained and worn.
From his shirt pocket he took a Bull Durham tobacco pouch,
And with one hand made a roll-yer-own - at that he was no slouch!

"Son", he...

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The original version of this piece is too long for me 
to post in its entirety, so it had to be sectioned off. Of 
all that I've written, I am most proud of this work due 
to its historical accuracy. I hope you enjoy it...

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[ In the early 1890's, Henry Lawson tramped to Hungerford  which inspired him to 
write a short story on his reflections.  In the 1980's I was part of a team 
connecting Hungerford   to the electricity grid and write the following by...

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