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.