I know it’s always great, to sit down with your mate
and talk of all the places that you’ve been.
Around the campfire light, beneath the stars so bright,
we reminisce on all the sites we’ve seen,
and, as we’re sitting back, the billy, old and black,
now boils and spits onto the campfire flame.
Then, looking back at you, I feel your love that’s true ,
I’m pleased that you agreed to take my name.
So as I fill your cup, (beside your bluey pup)
again I’m drifting back to when we met,
was Brisbane at Rocklea, when you first noticed me,
I knew you were the one I had to get.
Now after all these years, including sometimes tears,
our love has just grown stronger everyday,
and while we’re on the road, we share each others load,
until we find another place to stay.
We talk of Wineglass bay, that Tassie summer day,
how we walked hand in hand along the shore.
Port Arthur’s famous jail, (where prisoners would wail)
were buried on that island by the score,
or when we stayed at Sale where hay I tried to bale
before we headed out to see Karween.
Then rode the scenic rail down in old Flowerdale,
We’ve never seen the land so lush and green.
And how we felt the chill, at ‘Eagle on the hill’
when building snowmen in the local park.
We read about a bloke (who struck the Sydney smoke)
at Stuart town once known as Ironbark.
At the Cervantes fair, we smelt the fresh sea air
and heard the poets spruke their very best.
With Tamworth’s country din, we merrily joined in,
we wore Akubras and a leather vest.
Then up in Kakadu I hung on tight to you,
when that large croc leapt at the boat for food,
and down near Uluru, that’s when you spotted ‘Blue’,
your charming way I just could not allude.
The river Todd’s a place, we went to watch a race,
and laughed at all those boats with hairy legs.
Then how could we forget, the Queensland far north wet,
those northerners who drink their beer from kegs.
If we did settle down, in some small country town,
we’d write a book as thick as ‘War and Peace’.
Of summers and the rain, of happiness and pain,
and oceans, birds, and jumbucks and their fleece,
though here we sit again, years travelled tally ten,
I know we’ll keep on moving for some time.
For you my darling love, I thank the Man above,
and sometimes write about you in my rhyme.
For now, I’ll write a song by this old billabong,
of how we like to hold each other tight.
And while you stroke blue’s ear, I turn and say, ‘My dear,
you’re perfect like the Kimberleys tonight’.
I knew it from the start, back when you stole my heart
there’s nothing in the world I’d rather do
than have you by my side, my love I just can’t hide,
when touring ‘on the wallaby’ with you.
David J Delaney
18/01/2011 ©
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