ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

Four thirty in the morning ©

It’s now Piccaninny dawning
the noisy time of day
When all the birds are calling
And little creatures of the night
Now are hidden all away

The ghostly form of men
quietly come moving into sight
with glowing cigarettes from them
Amid stumbling sounds and cursing
Seems to make it sound all right

The billy it’s now boiling
Making tea both sweet and black
Just the thing for enjoying
It’s sweet smell mixed with smoke
As you meet the cattle waiting outback

Good onya William, you're into the rhyme and metre stuff

Nice little neat verse. Only thing , it seemed to end a bit quickly, I was hoping for just a little bit more about the cattle.

okay thanks Neville I will see what I can do

It always seems easier to write about the things you have experienced Bill.

Good stuff


Bob

...Yeah Bill, round us up a couple more stanzas ol' mate seemed you just got going and ...stopped! Give us a picture of what happens next!

(Goin' alright so far)....

Good on ya Bill,
We're all waiting for the next couple of stanza's mate,

Cheers Terry

Very nice Bill. More would be good.

Heather

Okay then, not to sure if this is good as some thing is just not right enough, so try this

Four thirty in the morning

It’s now Piccaninny dawning
the noisy time of day
When all the birds are calling
And little creatures of the night
Now are hidden all away

The ghostly form of men
quietly come moving into sight
with glowing cigarettes from them
Amid stumbling sounds and cursing
Seems to make it sound all right

The billy it’s now boiling
Making tea both sweet and black
Just the thing for enjoying
It’s sweet smell mixed with smoke
As you meet the cattle waiting outback

The old neck bell she’ll be clanging
cause that roan’s, now standing up.
A bellow here, and birds are singing
Every where now the cattle have awoke
Just before the sun comes up

The ringer’s brought the horses in
The hobble chains removed
And the old night horse now will win
the right to graze along that lonely track
Where soon the cattle they'll be moved

So you’ll mount your horse and travel
Behind that slowly moving mob
For the cattle they’re no trouble
As they graze along, that lonely track
When you think about it, it’s just a job

G'day Bill, I like it, I doubt it would win any literary awards but it tells me what is going on and in a manner I would expect from an old bushie. Good onya mate.

Perfect ! William