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Fair Dinkum Mate
by Mal Lyons
If you’re a true blue Aussie, then talk the way we do.
Like “stone the crows” and “ridgy didge” and “Ow ya goin Blue”.
Waltz along Matildas and sing of Gundagai,
talk about the swagmen and eat the big meat pie.
If you’ve never humped a bluey, or thrown a boomerang.
And never eaten damper, with vegemite or jam.
If you’ve never seen the Outback, from Bourke to Timbuktu,
then sorry mate, but you can’t be, a “Dinkum Real True Blue”.
Aussie blokes and sheilas, are “Bonza” through and through.
They’ve camped down by a “Billabong”, and played a Didgeridoo.
They drive around in Holdens, and go to “Two-Up Schools”.
They play the game of rugby league, and a lot of Aussie Rules.
Aussies live “Down Under”, and are very proud of that.
They’ve fought in many battles, and wear the old Slouch Hat.
They’ve fished the Murrumbidgee, and burnt the “Gidgee Tree”.
They’ve hunted “Crocs” at “Walkabout” with Crocodile Dundee.
Have you heard the Kookaburras laugh, and the Curlews when they cry?
The Goannas scamper up a tree, and the “Roos” go bounding by.
Have you seen the signs of nature, in Australia’s Great Outback,
from Darwin to “The Alice”, and down “The Birdsville Track”.
Have you ever sailed in Moreton Bay, or surfed at Bondi Beach?
Have you ever caught a Melbourne Tram, or walked down Flinders Street?
Have you journeyed to The Darling Downs, or crossed “The Great Divide”,
and travelled on “The Nullarbor” to reach the other side?
Have you been to Tumbarumba, shooting “Kanga Bloody Roos”?
Have you been down to “The Local” for a night out on “The Booze”?
Have you travelled The Pacific, The Bruce, The Sturt and Hume?
Have you ever seen “The Min-Min Light”, and been across to Broome?
If you’re a dinkum Aussie, and done what Aussies do.
You must be feeling very proud, to be a real True Blue.
No matter what part of Australia, The north, south, east or west,
by being a fair dinkum Aussie, you’re one of the Worlds very best
The Lyons Den - My thanks to Mal Lyons (and family) for the rights to reprint this topical poem "Fair Dinkum Mate". Visit their website for more wonderful Aussie poems

Our Corrugated Iron Tank
by Hal Gye
Our tank stood on a crazy stand,
Bare to the burning sun,
White hot as glares the desert sand,
And dismal to the eye.
Its lid was like a rakish hat,
The tap bent all awry,
And with a drip so constant that
It almost dripped when dry.
It was a most convenient tank
Wherein most things could fall;
Where snakes came from the bush and drank,
And rabbits used to call,
The mice committed suicide,
The gum leaves sank to rest,
And in it possums dropped and died
And hornets made their nest.
But stark within my memory
I see it once again
When we all looked at it anxiously -
Days when we hoped for rain;
I hear the hollow sounds it made,
Like some prophetic drum,
As I tapped rung on rung, afraid
Of dreadful days to come,
When mother in despair would pray
As low the water sank:
Four rungs, three rungs, two rungs, and, aye,
How miserly we drank;
And there was none for face and hands,
Waste was a wicked thing.
There in the baked and parching lands,
With hope our only spring.
Next came the fatal 'one rung left!'
(How cruel words can be!)
As we all stood for joys bereft,
Dumb in out misery:
And then I tapped the tank in pain -
Those knells of drought and doom:
Our tank at last gone dry again,
Our home cast down in gloom;
But, Oh, the joy that filled our hearts
When came the bounteous rain,
And the drain-pipe sang in fits and starts
And we filled the tank again!
We felt as if we'd riches won,
That life again was sweet;
And overjoyed then, everyone,
We even washed our feet!
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