Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis Poems

  • 551.  
    Rashly I shot an arrow in the air,
    And, as my shaft into the zenith sped,I knew 'twas bound to fall some time, somewhere;
  • 552.  
    The thrush is in the wattle tree, an', 'O, you pretty dear!'
    He's callin' to his little wife for all the bush to hear.He's wantin' all the bush to know about his charmin' hen;
  • 553.  
    In early, prehistoric days, before the reign of Man,
    When neolithic Nature fashioned things upon a planThat was large as it was rugged, and, in truth, a trifle crude,
  • 554.  
    We roam about the countryside
    And view the farmlands rolling wideA picture surely this of peace, of planty.
  • 555.  
    Can this be the old town of wheat-teams and saddle-hacks,
    Of Ted Toll's smithy, with the anvil ringing clear,Of stacks in the station yard, and stockmen, and farming hands,
  • 556.  
    He has made many meals
    On the Lib'rals of late,And the way that he feels
  • 557.  
    A golden maid whose golden voice
    Calls to the northern lands,Of riches she has had her choice.
  • 558.  
    The dawnin' of prosperity
    Recalls (said old George Jones)When I was young, a song we sung,
  • 559.  
    'Young sir,' 'E sez . . . Like that . . . It made me feel
    Romantic like, as if me dream was reel. 'Is dress was fancy, an' 'is style was grave.
  • 560.  
    Follow the river and cross the ford,
    Follow again to the wobbly bridge,Turn to the left at the notice board,
  • 561.  
    Do you know Fred? Now there's a man to know
    These days when politics are in the air, An' argument is bargin' to an' fro
  • 562.  
    ''Oo is that girl,' sez Digger Smith,
    That never seems to bother withNo blokes: the bint with curly 'air?
  • 563.  
    Bill? Oh, him ... Well, he's taken a knock.
    Real sad when I spoke to him last;Sufferin' like from a nasty shock.
  • 564.  
    Don't yeh hear them callin, to yeh, callin' to yeh, lad?
    Where the skyline's smeared an' grey with cannon smoke,There's a crowd o' chaps that knew yeh;
  • 565.  
    Where the road's white bracelet runs
    Round the cliff 'twixt bush and sea,Gleaming 'neath the summer's suns
  • 566.  
    Lord, Who, from Thy high position,
    See'th the humble politician,Knoweth all his secret schemes,
  • 567.  
    They were a merrie companie,
    Who'd dwelt together all these years;A little mixed in type, maybe;
  • 568.  
    Girls!
    You with the bobbed hair or Mary Pickford curls,Likewise you others
  • 569.  
    By lagoons and reedy places,
    Where the little river racesBy the lips of dreaming pools
  • 570.  
    ''Tis precious stuff,' said old George Jones
    'When men sore needs a fall;Tho' how or why it comes, I owns
  • 571.  
    When old ADAM bit the apple,
    And thereafter had to grappleWith hard toil to earn his daily bread by sweat,
  • 572.  
    Where is this glum Victorian
    This man of mien forlorn Fit but for some historian
  • 573.  
    High on the hills, where the tall trees grow,
    There lives an axeman that 1 know.From his little hut by a ferny creek,
  • 574.  
    Brothers!
    You .... with but a sixpence in your pocket, and you with half a 'quid,' and you with a solid bank balance, and sundry others;
  • 575.  
    Left, right - left, right . . .
    We march today for memories (the grizzled Digger said)Memories of lost dreams and comrades gone ahead
  • 576.  
    Mr Blades, the butcher, was a large and beefy man,
    'Best him at a cattle deal,' 'twas said, 'no other can.'He ate a lot and drank a lot and had a lot to say,
  • 577.  
    Mrs Dibbs - Polly Dibbs,
    Standing at a tub,Washing other people's clothes -
  • 578.  
    A noble lesson this should teach,
    Dear children unto you.If other people's goods you reach,
  • 579.  
    Are we so flabby, and are we so soft?
    I have pondered the question long and oft;And happy-go-lucky we may appear
  • 580.  
    Sun Day is a simple child,
    Face new washed and shining;In the morning prim and mild
  • 581.  
    Gold days give way to sudden rain,
    But what, I ask, of that?For I am my own man again,
  • 582.  
    As I rode in to Burrumbeet,
    I met a man with funny feet;And, when I paused to ask him why
  • 583.  
    Said old Pete, the Pensioner:
    'I met him down the roadWhere, twixt the shadders of the gums,
  • 584.  
    Aha! Beware! I know your guilty past!
    I was a witness of that secret crime.One word! and all your fondest hopes I blast.
  • 585.  
    She milked the cow; and all the morn was hushed
    (It was a beast that never kicked or rushed)The startled dicky-birds of early Spring
  • 586.  
    There's a very funny insect that you do not often spy,
    And it isn't quite a spider, and it isn't quite a fly;It is something like a beetle, and a little like a bee,
  • 587.  
    Knockin' about (said Benny, the Tough)
    By the Rocks an' Woolloomooloo,Oh, I was a low-brow, right enough,
  • 588.  
    My dear ladies - that is to say, those of you who may happen inadvertently to glance through this dreadful paper
    Most of you, no doubt, have felt impelled, at one time or another, to lightly caperRound and about a ballroom, clasped in the manly and purely platonic embrace of some intellectual affinity - some male bird of your type.
  • 589.  
    Lang syne I penned a mickle rhyme
    That muckle grief brocht to my soul;For critics said 'twas aye a crime
  • 590.  
    The diggers came from Bendigo,
    From Albury the drovers,From where the Goulburn waters flow
  • 591.  
    I wonder what the Jacks have got to laugh and laugh about.
    I'm sure the worms don't see the joke when Jacky digs them out.I wonder which is best: a rich plum-pudding stuffed with plums,
  • 592.  
    They must not talk....That strong and silent creature,
    The male of homo sapiens, bears the banWith calm aplomb. Speech is a trivial feature
  • 593.  
    The thing's all wrong (I sez to â??im)
    Now look, there's this â??ere Monday, Jim,Comes before Christmas. Be a toff
  • 594.  
    I'd like to be a teacher, and have a clever brain,
    Calling out, 'Attention, please!' and 'Must I speak in vain?'I'd be quite strict with boys and girls whose minds I had to train,
  • 595.  
    To-day I took old rhymes that I had written.
    And read them through, each one unto the end:When with a swift nostalgia was I smitten,
  • 596.  
    When Summer comes
    To silence the retreating drumsOf stubborn Winter, when content
  • 597.  
    Your place is by my side, my dear,
    A-holding of my handWhen I am feeling rather queer
  • 598.  
    Sing a song o' Hempire
    Mother's took a fit,Nasty Germans buildin' ships,
  • 599.  
    Mr Fitzmickle, the martinet,
    Still with an iron handRules house and home. Like a peevish gnome
  • 600.  
    Young man about to marry,
    Don't hesitate, I pray;No need for you to tarry
Total 714 poems written by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

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