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A Bushmans Memory Of Love


On A Lonely Hill Top High

I Chanced Upon A Mountain Cabin

Where Gullies Meet The Mountains

And Mountains Reach The Sky

Beneath The Starlit Southern Cross

In The Darkness Of The Night

Stands A Lonely Rough Log Cabin

Holding Secrets Of A Past

Once The Refuge Of A Bushman

A Home Amongst The Eucalypt

And Ghost Gums

Standing Majestic And Regal

As Sentinels Standing Tall

The Door Was Always Open

The Fire Within

The Stone Earth Hearth

Always Burning Bright

The Warmth Within

The Old Log Cabin

Was Always A Welcome Sight

For Those Who Strayed

From Life’s Past

Within The Darkness

Of The Night

Around The Nightly Fire

The Old Man Would Regale

His Past

And Entrance You

With Story’s Of His Life

Story’s As Seen

Through Eyes Dimmed With Age

And A Memory As Young

As Yesterdays Dawn

Story’s Of Wars And Adventures

In Distant Lands And Foreign Shores

Tell Tales With Quotes

Of Ancient Times

And Lives Long Past

The Songs He Sang

Had A Melancholic Air

Of Love

The Words He Spoke

The Words He Wrote

Had No Rhyme

Nor Had No Reason

But The Rhythm Of His World

Was Felt Upon Your Heart

And As The Night Grew Tired

The Question Of Love Evoked

And Coldness Pervaded

The Old Rough Hut

The Coldness Of An Old Mans

Broken Heart

The Silence Within

Unspoken Words

Faded As The Old Man

Retired To His Dreaming

And Somewhere

In Australia’s Past

An Old Bushman Gave Up The Ghost

On A Lonely Hill Top Line

Where Gullies Meet The Mountains

And Mountains Reach The Sky

Beneath The Southern Cross

In The Darkness

Of A Star Lit Night

Stands A Lonely Bushman’s Gravestone

Beside A Rough Log Cabin

The Door Is Always Open

The Fire Within The Old Stone Hearth

Has Now Grown Cold

And In The Stillness

Of The Night

The Walls Still Echo The Stories

Of An Old Man’s Past

And If Perchance

Your Mind Does Wander

And You Hear The Eerie Cry

Of A Wild Dingo Or A Mopoke

And Your Thoughts Wander

And You Start To Ponder

Of An Old Man’s Love

The Cabin Takes On

An Eerie Gloomy Chill

For Words Of Love

Were Never Spoken

For In Death

In Old Man’s Heart

The Words Of Love

Died And Grew Cold

As Cold As The Embers

Of A Fire

Which Once Burnt Bright

 
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Posted by on April 11, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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