251. Song Of Insane Gardener Oh, I dance upon the lawn in the cold, white dawn,
And I gloat upon the corpses of a countless million slain;
Where the frost about my feet spreads its winter winding sheet
252. Earth's Oldest Show Not in our public parks, for private gain.
This centuries-old precursor of all dramas
That lured babes in old Italy and Spain
253. Inevitable At the beginning of the week
A strictly rigid path I seek,
And vow the only state for me,
254. A Dogs' View I'm only just a common racing dog,
Simple in habit, and my diet's plain.
I have never had a longing for the grog
255. The Banana's Lullaby When grandma wished to keep her fruit
Her apples she would take
And put them on a bed of straw
256. The Barber's Story 'Mornin',' I sez to 'im,
Gloomy, 'e seemed to be.
Glum an' unsociable. Comes in the shop
257. The Lovers One idle hour she sought to see
Whose image 'twas he cherished so
(All fondly certain whose 'twould be),
258. The Joy Ride Ah Gawd! It makes me sick to think
Of what I 'eard an' seen;
Poor 'Arry like a wet rag flung
259. The Faithless Fantods Bill Barcoo was a station 'and - 'e was a station 'and,
And grafted all the year like Pharaoh's Jews.
But all 'is pay, I grieve ter say, 'e blewed - you understand
260. The Farmer's Lament 'The backbone of the country and the salt of all the earth'
That was how they styled us when the farmer had his worth.
But what's his valuation now, when times are pretty thin?
261. A Ballad Of Freedom Now Mr. Jeremiah Bane
He owned a warehouse in The Lane,
An edifice of goodly size,
262. 'eats' When Willie gets a penny piece
Straight to the lollie-shop he flies,
And, heartened by his wealth's increase,
263. The Milk Billy So nice it is of you to call . . .
Yes; Monday week we done it;
Right 'igh-clarse weddin' - church an' all.
264. Cup Couplets Out of great wisdom, long stored up,
I would write me a rune of the Melbourne Cup.
Out of experience, grave and gay,
265. Walhalla Dark lady of the laggard dawn,
Hiding within her gully deep;
Long have night's curtains been withdrawn
266. The Faith Of Old George Jones  Long faces, hangin' lips an' eyes without a smile,
Meegrims an' mulligrubs, mournfulness an' moans,
Faith in the future gone to glory for the while
267. An Error In Creation There was once a man who made a weird machine,
Employing dynamite and kerosene.
His subsequent destruction
268. Cherry 'Some I got with amber stems an' some with silver bands,
Bent ones an' straight ones an' all sorts o' brands.
A lot of pipes, sez you, for one old pensioner to own;
273. Come Ye Home Listening (said the old, grey Digger) . . .
With my finger on the trigger
I was listening in the trenches on a dark night long ago,
274. The Reaper In The Bush He was lyin' on his bunk,
In the hut behind the mill,
Ravin' like a man wild drunk,
275. Kilts, Ye Ken Noo, ye ken, we'll see 'em agen,
Waggling doon the street,
While the baton twirls an' the piper skirls
276. A New Year Thought Brother, who on some near morrow
Makes a pledge conceived in sorrow
Makes a New Year resolution
277. Wooloomooloo (a Riddle) Here's a ridiculous riddle for you:
How many o's are there in Woolloomooloo?
Two for the W, two for the m,
278. The Crisis Be-wigged and gowned, the Speaker frowned,
And his frown was ill to see.
'Oddsfish!' he spake, 'Do I mistake?
279. The Incorrigible The bad boy of Europe,
He stands in dire disgrace,
Crying too loud his innocence
280. The Silent Member He lived in Mundaloo, and Bill McClosky was his name,
But folks that knew him well had little knowledge of that same;
For he some'ow lost his surname, and he had so much to say â??-
281. The Fool And The Fire A fool and a bag in a belt of scrub,
Cloudless skies and the still hot days,
And the countryside's in a mad hubbub;
282. The Dance 'Heirlums,' 'e sez. 'I've 'ad the trousiz pressed.
Me father married in 'em, that 'e did.
See this 'ere fancy vest?
283. 'mac' In every little country place, all up and down the land,
From ageing cradles of the race to Never-Never Land
From the towns about the cities to the little towns out back,
284. 'jim Of Maribyrnong' They were forthright days when Jim was born,
When they called a spade a spade.
And statesmen held in lofty scorn
285. Country Towns - Portland Here she hides, an aged dame.
Here she dreams beside the waves.
Ever baulked of modern fame
286. Heat-wave Day after day, week after burning week,
A ruthless sun has sucked the forest dry.
Morn after anxious morn men's glances seek
287. Narcissus A man's a mug. I've worked the 'ole thing out
To-day, down in the orchard where I sat
Runnin' the wheels red-'ot beneath me 'at,
288. The Drama Ah, well, the thing that lived lives on,
And who are we to say it nay?
When Vandal and when Goth had gone,
289. Week-ends I don't know what's come to the summer
In these dull and decadent years;
But a fellow grows glummer and glummer
290. A Bouquet Yes!!! So we will
Throw care away,
If for no other reason than that 'twill
291. Langwidge 'The flamin' cows!' 'e ses; 'e did, an' worse;
'Twas 'orrible the langwidge that 'e used.
It made me blood run cold to 'ear 'im curse;
292. The Last Sundowner He sat upon a fallen log
And heaved a long, deep sigh.
His gnarled hand fondling his old dog
293. The Ballad Of Bill's Breeches Once on a time, a party by the name of Mr. BULL
Discovered that with many schemes his hands were pretty full.
His cares of family were great. Four fine young sons he'd got;
294. Mateship But when the war-worn, knowing all
Of glory, horror and hate,
Abandons all for the heart's sure call
295. Cobbers And Quids Is youth not less pedantic, less absurd,
Less prone to value things of little worth
In failing to wax wrath about a word
296. How We Backed The Favourite 'Sure thing,' said the grocer; 'as far as I know, sir,
This horse, Peter Pan, is the safest of certs.'
'I see by the paper,' commanded the draper,
297. If It's Modern It's Right By the Mediterranean shore,
In the days of the cohorts and legions,
When oodles of rain used to pour
298. The Merry Sportsmen 'Arry an' me is bits of sports;
When the summer comes around
We gits our sweaters an' guns an' shorts
299. Ogs It chanced one day, in the middle of May,
There came to the great King Splosh
A policeman, who said, while scratching his head,
300. Old Pete Parraday Old Pete Paraday, his mind works very slow;
But, when it fastens on a thoughts, he will not let it go.
He measures it and mumbles it until an answer comes,
Total 714 poems written by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis