ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

A Drovers’ Lament


Weeks he rides out on the plain,
a life from which he can’t abstain.
Sets up camp amongst tall gums,
a clearing where the Cooper runs.

At the mob he takes a glance,
then see’s two doves, who court and prance.
A large yellow belly leaps,
avoids a wedge tail as it sweeps.

While Cockatoo’s enjoy a drink,
by the fire he starts to think,
then leans against this Bloodwood tree,
remembers all her beauty.

Longs for her love every day,
little things she used to say.
The nights together they would spend,
thought their time could never end.

He had to go droving cattle,
for her this was a battle.
lonely nights she didn’t foresee,
and moved back to the city.

His love for her he’d always show,
loved enough to let her go.
She’s happy now with all her friends,
and the theatre she attends.

The camp fire sparks and then it spits
as the boiling water drips,
onto the flamed hot coals below,
as a breeze begins to blow.

Beneath this sparkling studded dome,
in the ‘outback’ he calls home.
Shares mountains and the trickling streams,
all alone, he dreams his dreams.


David J Delaney
25/05/2009 ©

excelent Dave but there is one question have you been peeking at my diary mate

the old battler Bill

Well Bill, you shouldn't have showed it to me mate!

G/day David
This poem brings back memories of a story I'd heard, I later got to know the chap involved.
This bloke came back from the war and found his fiance had taken off with a yank, (quite a common occurrence I believe) so he just headed bush to the goldfields. All his mines were named after her (Margaret), he never married. I don't think he ever forgot Margaret, not that he ever talked about her. Times have changed, it seems strange to-day, doesn't it. I have a half finished poem about that story somewhere, must dig it out someday and have another go at it. I enjoyed the read mate.

Terry

I really enjoyed this one too Dave. Gosh those camp fires bring on the yarns!

Heather

Thank you Terry & please do, I enjoy reading your work.

Thank you Heather, love campfires.

Hi David.

Rhymes of Times. I pick it up every now and then, have a read then place it back with my special books.

The photos of that old house were among the last ever taken before it was demolished.

I think we can both feel proud that in some small way we are a part of the history of something that once was.

I'm back taking photos and getting around a lot better than I have for a few years now.

Good luck mate. I'm sad that I had to drop out of circulation for a while and I will try to catch up with all the new names I see in the posts.

Who knows, I might even write something new and post it.

For now, See ya.

Terry.

G'day Terry, so glad to hear you are getting around better & taking photos, the one you let me use in "Rhymes of Times" is such a favorite mate, take care & hope you do write something again soon.......

Dave.

Bonza to see you back 'up & running' Terry. Would love to see something new from you when you feel the time is right.

David...I always smell the campfire smoke when I read your work. Ta mate.

Thank you Glenny, I remember the smoke well too, the bloody stuff followed me no matter where I moved to....