By the Billy's Boil

Sittin' by the fire, under the outback sky,

Watchin' me billy boil, thoughts runnin' high.

The flames dance and flicker, in the night so still,

Just me and Beth, me Blue Heeler, life's a tranquil thrill.

Dreams of the bush, where me heart does roam,

In this vast, wild land, I find me home.

The stars above, like old mates winkin',

In their silent chorus, I'm often thinkin'.

Me hopes, they're simple, like the bushman's way,

A good rain for the land, a bright, sunny day.

A full dam, green grass, where cattle can graze,

These simple joys, keep me contented for days.

Aspirations? Not many, just to live free and true,

To care for this land, as bushmen do.

To leave it better, for the young ones to come,

Under the same southern stars, the same burning sun.

Dreams, oh they come, like a river's flow,

Of days long gone, and the seeds I sow.

Of loves, sweet as nectar, like wild bush honey,

Some stayed, some left, life's not always sunny.

Beth, me loyal mate, with eyes so kind,

In her, the best of companionship I find.

She's more than a dog, she's part of me soul,

Together, in the bush, we're both whole.

Lost loves, they haunt me, like the curlew's cry,

Echoes of what was, in the night sky.

But the bush, she's a mistress, demanding and wild,

In her embrace, I'm forever a child.

So here I sit, by the fire's warm embrace,

In this timeless land, me special place.

With dreams, hopes, and memories, in me bushman's heart,

Me, Beth, and the billy, we'll never part.

© Peter Pickering 2024 www.peterpickering.com