My Dream Reader


If Banjo Patterson would be my Dream Reader,

writing errors he could gallantly rescinder.

Somehow it’s the beat and the rhythm I mostly defile,

when attempting to emulate his unique style.

But with you in my thoughts Banjo, I’d soldier on,

in bush literacy you’re my star paragon.

If wishes were horses, they say beggars would ride,

with you as my reader I would feel edified.


11 comments on “My Dream Reader

  1. ok, I’m going to punish you now…my one, and only attempt at bush balladry…took me 2hrs to type out for you too!

    beneath the sun’s blaze
    where the gum and malley grow
    the bushland falls to silence
    like a footfall upon the snow

    the thickett lush grows dense
    all along the babbling stream
    that ebbs and flows amid the banks
    of foilidge green

    the huntsman breaks the undergrowth
    the vines and ferns a waxen gleam
    leans upon his rifle butt
    to sip with iron hot breath
    the silver stream

    the birds high aloft are perched
    the songster wise to still
    crane their necks to better view
    their colors lost amid the leafy hue

    the animals in deep burrows listen
    as the mullet rush the churning stream
    and sense the huntsman’s spirit dance
    upon the living green

    Yes, you can blame Banjo, Henry… but maybe not CJ, cheers 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • G’day Diane,
      I didnt know you were a WP member, welcome to my Window, thank you for dropping by with your words of encouragement, as always they are very much appreciated. 🙂


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