The Old Black Billy An' Me - Poem by Louis Esson
The sheep are yarded, an’ I sit
Beside the fire an’ poke at it.
Far from talk an’ booze o’ men
Glad, I’m glad I’m back agen
On the station, wi’ me traps
An’ fencin’ wire, an’ tanks an’ taps,
Back to salt-bush plains, an’ flocks,
An’ old bark hut be the apple-box.
I turn the slipjack, make the tea,
All’s as still as still can be -
An’ the old black billy winks at me.
Comments about The Old Black Billy An' Me by Louis Esson
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Read poems about / on: fire