Along the roads of grassy fields
where thousands of sheep flit from
Astray from the flock, flouting,
fleeing with fear
blindly following.
Driven through the streets of London
at the Barnet fair to the farmers there.
But the way, takes an insalubrious plot.
Sheer confusion along the countryside
sets in on the herd, then stray
when eddying rapids currented by the tide
and force of the streams give, taken
to an endless frequent float
for great distances steered, stirred
while the timorous turn 'round.
An endeavor to gain the place they set off
As along ancient grassy drove road lies,
weary shepherd and his sheepdog.
Drovers, some on the hoof
The sheep shall stray
back to stay presently in Eden's garden
Jade-green grassy hills of harvest gold,
and cerulean skies.
Cattle trucks drive highways now
where drovers once held sway
Heavy rigs of chrome and steel
replaced the horse and dray
Gravel tracks of rich red earth
that rambled near and far
Have disappeared forever
‘neath miles of hot black tar
The billabong by shady gums
stands empty cracked and dry
The thirst of modern farms it seems
lets river systems die
The campfires of the cattle men
that used to dot the plains
No longer flicker in the night
no sign of them remains
Bush ballads sing of sweeping plains
where brumbys still run free
Of wild unharnessed rivers
and clear inviting seas
But brumbys fall as feral pests
the rivers drained and dry
The sea is choked with sewage
where fish and sea grass die
As the romance of the outback
begins to fade away
We learn that progress has a price
we’ve all been forced to pay.
From my PDF book "Bush Ballads and Bulldust"
A Horseman
https://www.youtube.com/edit?o=U&video_id=V9rXOdSslKA
Just watching the Magnificent Seven again,
Seen it many times of course,
Yul Brynner and Steve Mc Queen,
Two horsemen a sitting their horses,
When horse and man move as one,
You know, these are men that can ride,
Old drovers could tell in a heartbeat,
Yes it’s a matter of pride,
For when you have lived in the saddle,
And you feel the beat of his heart,
Your horse does carry you gladly,
gets a grip, like your only sweetheart ,
but my friend and I are now parted,
no longer his whinny or sigh,
but I still have his saddle,
just a horseman, a waiting to die.
Don Johnson
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 mails to Santa to see what they could get
Koalas draped high treetops with shiny garlands green
And furry possums lined their dens in golden glitter sheen
Wallabies joined in with bright balloons hung on their tails
All the crows tied streamers, cascading from the rails.
Kookaburras’ laughter changed to Christmas songs
While magpies and peewees piped along in throngs.
A wombat and a bandicoot made honeysuckle punch
The parrots came too early and drank’ til they got drunk
And when the’ Magic Pudding’ came to help with Christmas Dinner
His taste was so delicious he left a trifle thinner.
With a Kangaroo as Santa, his pouch stuffed full of cheer
hopping ‘round the outback in the hottest time of year
Just guess what all the drovers got- lots of ice-cold beer.
Suzanne Delaney
For Children's Christmas Poem Contest for Carol Eastman
A Horseman
Just watching the Magnificent Seven again,
Seen it many times of course,
Yul Brynner and Steve Mc Queen,
Two horsemen a sitting their horses,
When horse and man move as one,
You know, these are men that can ride,
Old drovers could tell in a heartbeat,
Yes it’s a matter of pride,
For when you have lived in the saddle,
And you feel the beat of his heart,
Your horse does carry you gladly,
gets a grip, like your only sweetheart ,
but my friend and I are now parted,
no longer his whinny or sigh,
but I still have his saddle,
just a horseman, a waiting to die.
Don Johnson 18-sep-11
FRANK H.
Contest Name WHAT TURNS YOU ON?
Moon over Thunderbox
The moon shines bright on the thunderbox tonight,
Little Charlie raced down and jerked open the door,
Something big and bright almost bloody white
A horror that he almost bloody saw,
Messed his pants upon the plurry floor.
Phenyl, was the smell, have a sniff you can tell,
The ghost was looking out the door,
The screams of Charlie B,
brought the Police a running see,
To arrest a sheep, a hanging all he saw,
In the great Depression time,
It was not seen as, never crime,
To steal a sheep, more for mostly poor,
Being now, paid for the time,
For the unpaid work, crime,
Balance the books,
a sheep to eat, for bloody sure!
Don Johnson 29-aug-11
Waltzing Matilda said sure,
lamb chops came through my door,
Drovers delivered full sheep through the winder,
a cooking at daylight, liver and chops and eggs under fat,
cooked on the old wood stove once more:)
Through my Magic Window
I see the cowboys on the hill
Trying to convince the cattle
That they have had their fill
"Jist goes ahead un snuff nu blow
Cause ut er a thousan' miles ta go
Bafor youse'll be left un youse own,"
Called out Lester Lowe
"Two thousan' un twenty three a youse long horns
Er in fer a travelin' spell'"
Said Samuel the trail boss as he helped his drovers
Move the drifters to the dell
"This air youse first time,"
He sez to Little Zeke
"Jist keeps um a movin'
Un youse'll be a cowpoke by end a the week.
The first day went fine and Little Zeke did well
The same for day two, day three and four
He breathed a sigh of relief as Bob slapped him on the back
"Youse air uh real cowboy now ma man"
As they rode on
Each day was something like the last
Then the desert dust gave way
To the fresh spring grass
The drovers had to push harder
Trying to keep the herd a moving
When the leader thought she was boss
Samuel and his rope proved that she lost
When night came, the cattle bedded down
And the night riders making their rounds
Samuel would take a strole to the chuck wagon
And Cookie would hand him his cup of coffee
As he savored it's taste
He'd check with Cookie to see
If his supplies were holding out
Then find ol' Jack crawl aboard and make another round
The nights of stary bliss
Or winds a blowin strong
The drovers were right there
To keep things from going wrong
The rivers they did cross,
Sometimes took their tole
Little Zeke was lucky to be on hand
He threw Luke a lasso and drug him to dry land
Some cattle were lost
Due to the heat
Some they had to nurse maid
If they got snake bit
The prairie dog towns were dangerous grounds
For horses, cattle or cowboys
Their holes were the cause of many a fall
With broken legs you can't ride a saddle
Nights in the bedroll
Days in the saddle
Day after day
They trailed the cattle
"Ain't got no prairie fire worries,"
Bob says to Little Zeke
"Lessen we gits some whar with grass"
And he kicked his horse in the ribs as they entered the pass
A week later they found grass
The cattle were starting to get weak
Samuel called a hault
And all enjoyed the two day break
Renewed the drovers and cattle stepped out refreshed
Two days later the Platt River again came into view.
The leader she began to balk
Samuel put a rope on her and Gabe gave her a whack
As they reached the other side
Some riders topped a ridge
Everyone threw their hats in the air
And holler "Here we is"
Samuel entered the bunkhouse
And to the window he did strole
He looked at the beautiful land
Bowed his head and said "Amen"
Cile Beer
August 17,2010
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