Tribute to The Banjo
(In Rough-and-ready Land).
As I lie at rest on a patch of clover
I am thinking all that Banjo has done
I wonder of the world he knew back then
No polluted view of the setting sun
I pondered his thoughts, as he was dying
His son eagerly his name supplying?
For one more drink was he right then crying?
Or did he know then that his last had come
Did ol’ mates fill his thoughts like Lawson
Did he ponder seeing Harry Morant
Would Brady, Gilmore or Dorathea
Place on his coffin the bud of a plant
Did he dream of the bush and of Clancy
Was swapping places, his final fancy
About dying was he feeling ansi
Was Waltzing Matilda a distant chant
Who would he see waiting up there to meet him
Saltbush Bill be standing there at the gate
Is The Man from Ironbark still bleeding
Would Magninnis want to question his fate
Will the black swans fly out from the sunrise
Would the lucerne flats offer up their prize
Could the old Man talk now of his surprise
Did the Geebung Club have a happy wait
To camp by the billabong outside heaven
It is a future he has long well earned
He’ll be spending his days with the swagman
A splendid reward for all he has learned
Reliving good old Australian ways
All the warm nights and nice hot sunny days
At Dead Mans creek he could sit back and laze
With the cashbook and the journal well burned.
Copyright Poetry in Paradise Reg TM No 1028534.