many of us forget about little thing about the horror of war and this is one of many
A message to home
He was sitting by the trackside
His clothes, all dusty and worn
His dog, skinny and foot sore
Was laying close beside
Both had seen that side of life.
A life that only a swagman knew,
A life that’s no good to you, or me
But to him, it was his way of life.
A life, where only he may wander
Here and there, mile after mile
Sleeping in a barn, or in a humpy
For him, his life he will not squander
For today is today, tomorrow is yet to be.
It’s a life that he sees, come what may.
And so he travels this land, for he must
For there are places he must go, and see.
To a lonely station house, far away,
To a lonely station widow, he will see.
Words to her he’ll quietly gently say
Then he’ll leave, as she wipes those tears away.
You may call him what you will in rage
But to those lonely widows in the bush
He wears his medals of courage with pride
As he tells them, their husbands last message
Written by Bill Williams ©
a message home
All registered Forum users can post bush poetry dedicated to all those who served
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