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Under the Coolabah Tree
5/12/2004 7:43:00 PM
by Wendy Laing
|The second edition of Australian Bush poetry is launched with ten new poems.
His hair is red and very rough,
His teeth all bright and white.
He runs for hours by old Bill's side,
And never given a bite.
'Come here, Dog,' you hear the call,
and he runs across the grass.
When resting by his shady tree,
I'd dare anyone to pass.
His 'wuff' is tough and always loud.
Many puppies he has sired.
They follow him around the farm.
By his exploits, they're inspired.
He saved old Bill's life, one day,
When a snake got in the shed.
He ran out in front of Bill
'n bit off the snake's small head.
When Bill is asked, 'What's his name?'
He smiles, sitting on a log.
'His name? I really dunno, mate.
Cos, I've always called him, Dog!'