Best Outback Poems

I'll bet this set of rusty shears have a story they could tell,
of the loneliness and broken backs in a land that's hot as hell,
where hopes and dreams mirrored lives that these shearers led,
here among the ruins of an outback-shearing shed.

I'll bet this set of...

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Excitement filled the bushland as December was near
Every creature had been waiting for Christmas time - all year.
Wallabies hung their stockings on a  gumtree branch with care
Just as all nice children do – everywhere.

Meanwhile those more up to date logged on the internet
sending E...

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On an outback plain where big Roos were few
A gang went riding their Harley’s
Their plan was to stop at the pub for a brew
So they headed at top speed for Charley’s

It wasn’t too long as they sped along
that a Big Red hopped out of nowhere
that...

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I hear the drone that quizzes me then see the swirling mass.
A cloud veers in all directions; green changes in a flash.
Ten thousand wings are beating. The sky a wonderful delight.
I follow the budgerigars until the flock is out of sight....

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Poppy can you tell me, just one more, 
About the seasons, you say there are four
The old man in his rocking chair
Smiled at his granddaughter, oh so fair

Tell me please about Spring,  
It seems to make spirits sing.
She begged as she climbed onto his...

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“Gotta’ ‘git’ ‘im!” Followed the howl of death.
His cigarette burnt brighter, when he sucked another breath.
“Will I get the gun and spotlight?” I asked rising from my chair.
“Nar’, no sense!” the ‘old man’ said. “He could be anywhere.”

“Tomorrer’ son I wan’cha, to shoot a ‘joey’...

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Twisted, gnarled, snapped and broken.
dead limbs belie the tortuous years when thrived.
Eroded landscapes display, layers of eons passed by
where nomadic man’s footsteps, once trod and so survived.

Jewels of desert beauty hang, and use their scent to reach,
through beckoning colour, the nomadic bird and bee who...

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My brown kelpy outback dog
Quite often gets on the grog,
He chases his tail constantly,
Briefly stopping to scratch a flea,
Then, off with the sheep to play leap-frog....

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He goes by the alias Outback Jack
Telling tales of OZ, he’s got the knack
Little Joe's no punk
He’s an Aussie hunk
Whom I’d love to get in the sack...

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Wheels turning, churning, fighting for a grip
mud oozing, clinging, sucking  for purchase
rivers flooding their banks, water everywhere
trucks fighting trying to get through and deliver 
their precious cargos that are desperately awaited
sometimes gasoline or much needed machinery
all depending on the driver to make it to...

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Close 'round the crackling fire we three,
with sweet acacia in the air - 
tell stories of Gallipoli
and digger's bond of friendship there.

We laughed and shared like family
with roof and walls of stars our home - 
tracker Wiley, Henry and me
on highland edge of bushland dome.

But...

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Things been gittin' a mite boring 'ere,
So called on my old mate;
Said let's git out of town awhile,
He said,"That sounds great."

Said "Put together a bit 'o' grub,
A bed roll, tack and such,
And we'll go walk-about, we two,
Don't think that we'll need much,

'Cuz we'll be livin'...

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A track leads through a gully in the bushland
Following the least line of resistance in a haphazard plan
The kookaburras and the magpies squawk happily away
The sun on my back makes me want to stay

Walking to the rock face broken on the gorge face
Two wallabies look...

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Based on my consulting this year’s almanac    
June 30th being the best possible day for a BBQ out back
I sent out invitations to everyone, I didn’t hold back

There was the lumberjack, the nymphomaniac
The humpback, the hunchback and the hypochondriac
The kleptomaniac, the hemophiliac...

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Three men seeking to stake their claim
Rode off into the Australian outback
Not experienced with the torrential rains
Only two men came riding back

In a land that is parched by the Southern sun
New prospectors feel only heat's pain
Their first year in this unforgiving land
They do not expect...

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