This was a letter written by my Dad to his
Letter To
I undertake in these few verses,
My dear old brother
To tell you just how light my purse is.
And what I’ve been doing of late.
Last year in 1935, I was working In Yallourn
But snatched it coming on the summer
I think the only trouble was
The weather got too warm.
For when a man is hanging all day
To the end of a pick or shovel,
It’s then he tries to better himself
And gets further into trouble.
I finished up, and went to town
And to those city agents I went and did the rounds,
Of course I didn’t know the ropes too well,
But everytime I got lost, I managed to locate the bell.
I’ll tell you
Climbing all those flights of stairs
Until at last I took a tumble,
And got in those lift affairs.
When I introduced myself
And said, “ I want to buy a farm”
They held out their hands to me
Of course I took it calm.
They praised up the blocks they had,
And made me feel like a squatter too
When they asked if I’d like to go,
And inspect a block or two.
The first place I went and saw
It had no boundary fence,
It was 3 parts heath and scrub
And bracken fern the rest.
Of course I turned it down
Don’t you think that that was best?
It was then I went to Hawsley, he’s another city sneak,
He took me out to where I am, out here at Dixons Creek.
He praised the place right up to me
As that they’re paid to do,
Until at last I said I’d take the place
And put the business through.
‘Twas then he took my shillings
Every one I had
And things have set in dry my lad,
And things are bloody bad.
The little bit of fruit I had
It hardly paid to spray.
And to those
I went and gave away.
So now then
With this you should agree,
So think yourself lucky
That
So now then
At expenses I must look,
I’ve used up a 1/4 inch of pencil
And of paper , near a book.
So now I’ll say goodbye
To
Although we are so very close
We all love one another.
1 comment:
Well, I'm impressed. I can see you come by your talent naturally. Prose, I get, poetry, not so much. Thank you for sharing your Dad's poem.
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