#AustralianWriters
Fellers of Australier, Blokes an’ coves an’ coots, Shift yer— carcases, Move yer— boots. Gird yer— loins up,
You can’t expect it! Goodness me! T’would be a dreadful policy! What sort of Ministerial dunce Would try to do two things at once… How can they deal with city needs,
Peace, perfect peace. . . . Come,… The danger zone is past; the gaunt… The bark of Scylla ceases on her… And grim Charybdis threatens us n… Respite, Nepenthe, leaning-posts…
Let’s have a tiny little bush fire… It’s a cold, cold night tonight. We are sick of this long session Of the darkness of depression. And a fire would make things brigh…
They say the eagle is a bird That sees some splendid sights When he soars high into the sky Upon his dizzy flights: He sees the ground for miles aroun…
Sun Day is a simple child, Face new washed and shining; In the morning prim and mild Church and mid-day dining. If, before the shadows fall,
‘E wears perjarmer soots an’ clean… That’s wot I reads. It fairly kn… ‘Me soljer cobber, be the name o’… Well, if that ain’t the limit, str… The sort that Ginger Mick would t…
Righto! I’ll give the game a go. They say I should be circumspect;… I’ll bang The cows in slang . .
His Honor walked into the shop For of shopping his Honor was fon… Did she blush? Did her eyes indi… In that slim little, trim little b… Did his bachelor heart miss a beat…
Where Feathertop frowns thro’ the… Where Buffalo broods on high, Dwells she, a lass of royal blood, And a sparkle lights her eye The clear, clean glint of the sun…
Men knew and loved my calling in o… Days ere a bitter wisdom taught me… Trusting and unafraid, I went my… By many a crude hut of the pioneer… Calling by paths where lonely axem…
A sight that gives me much distres… Is George without his trousers, Garbed, scantily, in bathing dress Proscribed by saintly Wowsers, And Gerty, gay and forward flirt,
Ole Mother Moon ‘oo yanks ’er bea… Acrost the sky when we’ve grown si… She’s like some fat ole Jane 'oo… On all concerned, an’ smooth our f… An’, like a woman, tries to 'ide a…
Noo, ye ken, we’ll see 'em agen, Waggling doon the street, While the baton twirls an’ the pip… To the beat of the marching feet. Left– right– glimmerin’ bright,
Nay, why do foolish politicians st… To win a fleeting popularity? In vain, in vain, they jealously c… To turn the doting Public Eye fro… What was this land, this nation, d…