Australian bush poetry

[[deleted user]]

G'day all, here are a couple of my Australian bush poems & one of my latest 'war' related poems.
Dave.

In the Shadow of Ghosts

To all and sundry I hereby attest
when writing stories, I will pen my best
to literary heights I will aspire
and write like poets, those that I admire.

To stroll with Lawson under silver moon
and sit with Dennis in the early noon
ride with Morant along the Condamine
inspired by Parkes, my rhyme I will refine.

Then walk with Kendall, hear the bell birds song
stand with Ogilvie, view the rushing throng
watch Evans write his women of the west
read Boake, great poet and one of our best.

There’s Esson’s tribute to the shearer’s wife.
the convicts who sang their rum song of life
then Song of Australia was Carleton’s view
I hear Paterson, and that Geebung crew.

Verse caught the time, the man rode Snowys side
viewed Sydney town when ships moved with the tide
rode Cobb and Co. along a dusty track
travelled the bush, where some never came back.

All master poets, experts in this craft
read so many, I smiled, I cried, I laughed
published in many a books well read pages
their words are still resounding through the ages.

I’ll keep on writing well into the night
knowing one day, I’ll pen the metre right
the flow of my rhythm will be like a song
the beat will sound its perfect soft and strong.

With help from writers, present or the past
my writings' true perfection, I will grasp
when all’s left are my poems and my rhyme
I would love them remembered for all time.

David J Delaney
10/09/2008 ©


A Drovers’ Lament


Weeks he spends out riding 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 often glances,
while they graze on lush new grasses.
From the water, a yellow belly leaps,
avoiding a wedge tail as it sweeps.

Now cockatoo’s come in for a drink,
watching the fire he starts to think,
against this old Bloodwood tree.
Again remembers all her beauty.

Misses her loving every day,
sweet little nothings she used to say.
Nights together they were spending,
thought their time was never ending.

He had to go and drove the cattle.
She found it an emotional battle.
The lonely nights she didn’t foresee,
moved her life back to the city.

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

Camp fire sparks, crackles and spits
as the boiling water drips
onto flamed hot coals below,
stirred, as a breeze begins to blow.

Beneath this sparkling star studded dome,
here in the outback he calls home.
Shares mountains and trickling streams.
In solitude he dreams his dreams.


David J Delaney
25/05/2009 ©


New Generation Veterans

We honour our old veterans, we honour them with pride
and read of all the horrors they have carried deep inside.
We know they served in Asia or New Guinea’s highland rains,
Vietnam or in Africa where many men were slain.

We know that fateful landing on Gallipoli’s dark shore,
wherever Aussies fought, we know there are so many more,
but now a new young generation needs our help as well,
they too have been to war and suffer with their private hell.

Though losses are not classed as great, their fears are just the same
those electronic hidden bombs, still injure, kill or maim.
They fight against an enemy they find so hard to see
who mingle in the market place, then cause much tragedy.

Insurgents in Afghanistan hide in the rough terrain
or roaming in Iraq, where, wearing robes they look the same.
The suicide stealth bombers, don’t care who they hurt or kill,
then, with their own beliefs, they try to break our forces will.

Our fighting Aussie spirit shows on any foreign land,
they’re in the skies, they’re on the sea, or on the desert sand.
Now many are returning with the horrors they still see
and living with their nightmares, suffering bureaucracy.

I know on ANZAC day we all remember with a tear,
but all vets young or old, they need our help throughout the year,
support and listen to their stories, when they do get told,
let’s honour our new veterans, just like we do our old.



David J Delaney
10/02/2010 ©

[J.]

G'day mate,
how great t'was your woe of veterans' fate,
to remind of us due honor tis n'er too late
Lift high your mug, bow low your head,
let 'em know you appreciate.
In true Oz fashion fail not to invite,
let's 'ave another piss, mate.

Your outback wanderer, I enjoyed
followed his every track
but still left me with the same dilemma
My boomerang won't come back

Good job mate, let it flow. And someday when my travels find me in Oz, I'll definitely look you up. Ayer's Rock is on my bucket list.

j guevara

btw: how many verses are there to 'Waltzing Matilda'? Does that song ever end?

[[deleted user]]

G'day j, love your responce verse, well done eh! & as far as how many verses there are to Waltzing Matilda, mate there are actually 4 verses = 16 lines not including the chorus, but of course that depends on how 'pissed' one is LOL.

[J.]

ohhh ok.. ow I get it. make em up as you get stoned. No wonder there's not end. heheheh

[Steven]

Thank you for such an great read

[Mandy]

Great poems, loved New Generation Veterans.

j, great reply ☺

[[deleted user]]

Thank you Steven & Mandy, Mandy I am still waiting to here from Perth RSL, 18 other RSL's or associations want to publish NGV in their magazines & 4 want to read it at their respective ANZAC day commemorations, though I am expecting more inquiries before ANZAC day.

[Mandy]

That is fabulous, David, you must feel so proud. What an honour!

[[deleted user]]

I do & it is, if you are interested a number of my 'war' related poems are at the link below, new ones are posted when Anthony (Aussie Vietnam vet) gets a chance to.

http://iwvpa.net/delaneydj/index.php

[Mandy]

Thanks, David, I've added it to my favourites list.

[Julie]

I liked this book....seems like you might think it's relevant: Faces in the Street