Thomas E. Spencer


The Rouseabout


In a humble hut, on a scrubby flat,
Near the land of the setting sun,
Lived a simple but honest rouseabout,
Who rejoiced in the name of Dunn.
He could warble as sweet as a bandicoot,
He could dance like a kangaroo,
His age, it was just about four-feet ten,
And his height about thirty-two.

He worshipped a beautiful female maid
Who lived on a distant plain;
Whose husband had gone to a far-off land,
And had never come back again.
She had bright blue hair, she had rosy eyes,
And her cheeks were of golden hue.
So Tommy set off, as the sun went down,
To tell her he loved her true.

He traversed the hills and the mountain peaks,
He climbed up a rugged plain,
He swam the beds of the dried-up creeks
And he tramped o'er the raging main.
He saw not the wind on the distant hills,
He heard not the rising moon,
For his soul was dead, and his burning head
Was as calm as a big monsoon.

His eye, like a hurricane, roared aloud,
His voice, like the lightning flashed,
The blustering blizzard it boomed and burst
As on through the dust he splashed.
He rode on a flea-bitten chestnut mare,
With a patent pneumatic tyre;
And the sparks from the feet of his flying steed
Set Billabong Creek on fire.

He leapt from the train at the half-way house,
And stood at the maiden's door;
He wept at the sight of that dear old spot
Which he never had seen before;
He stood on his head at the maiden's feet,
And he begged her his lot to share,
Then, brushing tear from his glist'ning ear,
He spoke of his dumb despair.

"See! see!" he exclaimed to the winsome maid,
in syllables tall and sweet,
"The whole of my expectations I cast
At thy beautiful, blushing feet.
For you I would live - through eternity!
Say ‘yes' - for my own sweet sake,
And without a murmur I'll sacrifice
All the millions I hope to make.

Then the maiden rested her blushing nose
For a moment on Tommy's chest,
And she said, as she cuddled his crumpled form
To her soft and capacious breast,
"As I have been true in the years to come,
I'll be true in the past," said she.
And she winked her ear at a native bear
That was perched on a pumpkin tree.

Submitted: Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (The Rouseabout by Thomas E. Spencer )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Tail of Two Buffalo s, Harold R Hunt Sr
  2. Not A Dream But Maybe What We Will, Hirotsugu Daba
  3. Remembering., Harold R Hunt Sr
  4. The tour bus of heaven., Harold R Hunt Sr
  5. Sirens, Alesia Leach
  6. American red, Harold R Hunt Sr
  7. The Race is on., Harold R Hunt Sr
  8. Decree's, Cee Bea
  9. A letter to a soldier., Harold R Hunt Sr
  10. 11 Days Before Christmas, Harold R Hunt Sr

Poem of the Day

poet Charles Stuart Calverley

He stood, a worn-out City clerk —
Who'd toil'd, and seen no holiday,
For forty years from dawn to dark —
Alone beside Caermarthen Bay.
...... Read complete »

   

Trending Poems

  1. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  2. Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
  3. Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
  4. If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
  5. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
  6. Dreams, Langston Hughes
  7. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  8. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
  9. Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
  10. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou

Trending Poets

[Hata Bildir]