Waiting For Water Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDCCD CECEFGFFG FHFHICIIC FJFJKIKKI CHCHCGCCG GLGLMNMMN GOGOIPIIP GGGGFGFFG CCCCCCCCC IQIQMGMMG GGGGCRCCR CICICGCCG FMFMFDFFD

'Twas old Flynn the identity told usA
That the creek always ran pretty highB
But that fossicking veteran sold usA
And he lied as his quality lieB
Through a tangle of ranges and ridgesC
Down a track that is blazed with our hideD
Over creeks minus crossings and bridgesC
High and low mere impertinent midgesC
Trying falls with the mighty DivideD
-
We came hauling the boxes and stampersC
Or just nipping them in with a winchE
Now and then in unfortunate scampersC
Missing smash by the eighth of an inchE
Round the spurs very daintily crawlingF
With one team pulling out in a rowG
And another lot heavenward haulingF
Lest the whole bag of tricks should go sprawlingF
Into regions unheard of belowG
-
We came through with the shanks and the shaftingF
And the frames and the wonderful wheelH
Then we put in a month of hard graftingF
Ere we nailed down the last scrap of dealH
She beat true and with scarce a vibrationI
And we voted her queen of the millsC
And a push from the wide desolationI
Drifted in to our jollificationI
When her drumming was heard in the hillsC
-
Now the discs by the cam shaft are rustingF
And the stamps in the boxes are stillJ
And a silence that's deep and disgustingF
Seems to hang like a pall on the millJ
Just a fortnight she ran then she restedK
And we've little to do but complainI
For a bird in the feed pipe has nestedK
And we've spent every stiver investedK
And are praying for tucker and rainI
-
Billy's Creek theme of eloquent fablesC
Drips like sweat on the breast of the wheelH
And the blankets are dry on the tablesC
And the sluice box is warped like an eelH
Sudden dust clouds run lunatic racesC
In the red rocky bed down belowG
And the porcupine scrambles in placesC
Where Flinn swears by the faith he embracesC
Fourteen inches of water should flowG
-
For a time we were proof against sorrowG
And we harboured a cheerful beliefL
In the plenteous rains of to morrowG
As we belted away at the reefL
We piled quartz in the paddocks and hopperM
And the pack horse came in once a weekN
Now our credit is not worth a copperM
At the township and highly improperM
Is the language the storekeepers speakN
-
We no longer talk brightly or snivelG
Of our luck but we loaf very hardO
Too disgusted to care to be civilG
And too lazy to look at a cardO
Only George finds some slight consolationI
Crushing prospects a couple a dayP
And then proving by multiplicationI
How much metal is in the formationI
And the 'divvies' she'll probably payP
-
But our leisure is qualified slightlyG
By the cattle from over the FlyG
Who have taken to pegging out nightlyG
In our limited water supplyG
And the snakes have assisted in keepingF
Things alive for the man you'll agreeG
Will be spry who may find he's been sleepingF
With a tiger or chance on one creepingF
In the water he wanted for teaG
-
Though our sweltering sky never changesC
Squatter Clark up at Crowfoot complainsC
That prospectors out over the rangesC
Have been chased out of camp by the rainsC
Veal the Methodist preacher at Spence'sC
Who the Cousin Jacks say is 'some tuss'C
As a rain making parson commencesC
To enlarge on our sins and offencesC
And to blame all his failures on usC
-
We don't go to his church down the mountainI
Seven miles is a wearisome trotQ
With the glass playing up like a fountainI
And the prayers correspondingly hotQ
So on Sunday each suffering sinnerM
Has a simple convivial spreeG
A roast porcupine maybe for dinnerM
For we daily grow thinner and thinnerM
On the week's bread and treacle and teaG
-
We've been scared too of late by GolightlyG
Him who kept up his chin best of allG
And predicted with confidence nightlyG
Heavy rains that neglected to fallG
And enlarged on the sure indicationsC
While we listened and wearily groanedR
Of tremendous climatic sensationsC
Fearful tempests and great inundationsC
That it happened were always postponedR
-
He's gone daft through our many reversesC
Or the sun has got on to his brainI
For he cowers all day and he cursesC
To a fretful and wearing refrainI
And at midnight he dolefully screechesC
In the gloom of the desolate millG
Or he goes in his shirt making speechesC
To the man in the moon whom he reachesC
From the summit of Poverty HillG
-
So we're waiting and watching and longingF
With an impotent bitter desireM
And new troubles and old ones come throngingF
Drought and fever and famine and fireM
And we know our misfortunes reviewingF
All the pangs that in Hades betideD
Where the damned sit eternally stewingF
And through days never ending are suingF
For the water that's ever deniedD

Edward Dyson



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