Out in the midst of our great land

Where the long brown rivers flow

Although I’ve never been there

I would dearly love to go

To follow the tracks where Henry trod

Through the outback towns and runs

And to rest, in an old bush shanty

When welcome rains have come.

To feel that old bush atmosphere

That the bush people must have known

Then to go a-droving with Clancy

To sing at night by the fire’s glow

And maybe hear the dingo’s howl

When the moon is high and bright

And to see the glowing of the dawn

As it banishes away the night.

And I’d like to go to the Snowies

To those ranges wild and high

And hear the tred of the brumbies 

As they gallop towards the sky

Or to go with that man called Banjo 

To that sunny Queensland clime

And hear the Waltzing Matilda strains

As it was played in the olden times.

But with all my dreams and wishes

Of the things I’d like to do

I’m afraid it just can’t happen

As my world goes spinning through

For the old days they have vanished

And the ‘oldsters’ have all gone

They are only names on headstones

Of which our writers may have a loan …

The Blacksmith

 by Diane Simmonds

Steel rings, flint flies,

His craft is old and true.

The mingling sweat of horse and man:

A battler, he’s true blue.

With arms of steel, back like the trunk

Of Stringybark gum trees

The man and hot shod horse are mates;

Mare snuffles; bellows wheeze.

Meet at Club Mudgee, First Floor, Room 2. 

On the second Tuesday each month at 12pm to 3pm. 

“We encourage members to think of and try fun and creative writing ideas at the meetings.”

For more information please email mvw.nsw@gmail.com

Visit mudgeevalleywriters.wordpress.com