A DUST STORM

[william williams]

she's been revived let's see what you think.


A dust storm

It’s a miracle it don’t kill me, as she whinges about her washing,

all covered in grey dust,

But I can’t say that you'll blame her, that rotten flaming stuff.

Why it gets in all your bedding, and its murder in your crutch,

an you’ll stand for hours scratchin Tis something, I don’t like to much

Why it covers up the kitchen floor, till you’ll sweep it up once more.

then you’ll put the broom away, and in despair, you’ll do it all again

Why! it’s just that sort of stuff, you don’t wish to have around.

It’s dirty filthy rotten stuff, that dust that’s flying round.

Why it gets into your nostrils, and makes it hard to breathe.

It gets into your open mouth, and makes your spit turn black.

Oh I’ll pray to you your lordship, and you know that’s mighty hard.

But lord if you could do a miracle, please send it off, to someone else yard

Written by Bill Williams ©

[Neville Briggs]

That looks pretty good Bill. A bit ' flexible " in places but flows fairly well in the main.

It's those first three lines, where you have set out the sense of the lines OK but in poetry the lines are not set according to sense but according to metre. Unless of course the metre and the sense match. Which, in bush poetry,they usually do.
If I can get to Queanbeyan and if you shout me a middy of scotch I'll explain it to you.

I hope it's not down the road at Julia and Tim's yard you're trying to send the unwanted dust.

[alongtimegone]

I have only ever experienced one large dust storm Bill. It was in Cloncurry and it was everything you've said and more.
Wazza

PS Could Neville really drink a middy of whiskey or is he boasting?

[Neville Briggs]

Just pullin' his leg Warren.