Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

[C. J. Dennis] (7 September 1876 - 22 June 1938 / Auburn, South Australia)

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis Poems

521. All Fools' Day 8/31/2012
522. 'Bosses Don'T Seem Right' - A Christmas Monologue 8/29/2012
523. Bird - Seed 8/29/2012
524. Country Roads ~ White Horse Road 8/31/2012
525. Yule Fever (With Apologies To The King's Minstrel) 8/31/2012
526. Cackle 9/5/2012
527. A New Damon And Pythias 9/4/2012
528. A Song Of Anzac 9/3/2012
529. The Cab Horses' Story 9/1/2012
530. Cosmic Comic Relief 8/30/2012
531. Birthday Honours 8/30/2012
532. Upon The Road To Rockabout 1/1/2004
533. African Interlude 8/28/2012
534. Brothers O' Mine 9/6/2012
535. Accent Conscious 8/28/2012
536. Goophic Phantasm 8/28/2012
537. Grey Thrush At The Door 8/28/2012
538. Definitions 8/28/2012
539. Dad On The Test 8/28/2012
540. Dusk 3/21/2012
541. Digger Smith 3/21/2012
542. West 3/21/2012
543. Wheat 3/21/2012
544. From Fame To Fowls 8/28/2012
545. Further Afric Echoes 8/29/2012
546. Earth's Oldest Show 8/29/2012
547. Down, But Not Out 8/29/2012
548. Disputed Boundaries 8/29/2012
549. The Crisis 8/29/2012
550. The Cosinic Curve 8/29/2012
551. Fitzmickle Unbends 8/30/2012
552. For The Defence 8/30/2012
553. Dargo 8/30/2012
554. The Criminal War 8/30/2012
555. Fruit Of Earth 8/30/2012
556. Election Aftermath 8/30/2012
557. Forbidden Fruit 8/30/2012
558. 'Fathercraft' 8/30/2012
559. Ghost That Wouldn'T Lie Still 8/30/2012
560. Dinner And Dinty 8/30/2012
Best Poem of Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

Hist!

Hist! . . . . . . Hark!
The night is very dark,
And we've to go a mile or so
Across the Possum Park.

Step . . . . . . light,
Keeping to the right;
If we delay, and lose our way,
We'll be out half the night.
The clouds are low and gloomy. Oh!
It's just begun to mist!
We haven't any overcoats
And - Hist! . . . . . . Hist!

(Mo . . . . . . poke!)
Who was that that spoke?
This is not a fitting spot
To make a silly joke.

Dear . . . . . . me!
A mopoke in a tree!
It jarred me so, I didn't know
Whatever it could be.
But come along;...

Read the full of Hist!

Old Farmer Jack

Old farmer Jack gazed on his wheat,
And feared the frost would nip it.
Said he, "it's nearly seven feet -
I must begin to strip 'it.

He stripped it with a stripper and
He bagged it with a bagger;
The bags were all so lumpy that
They made the bumper stagger.

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