The Drover

Written by Dick Roberts

From the Canning to the Birdsville Track,

The Georgina and the Muranji

From the Barkly to the Hay Plains.

And the Snowy Mountains high.

The old drover he’s still working,

Bedding the cattle down tonight.

He dreams of the big old stock camps,

From his new home in the sky.

The old drovers now are getting scarce,

Time has taking hold,

The water holes are far between,

To China its all been sold.

Highways are now appearing,

Where the cattle used to feed.

The old drover will soon be lost

and left only in our dreams

So ill take you back just one more time,

to a way of life i knew,

When the day started at the crack of dawn, and the camp was on the move.

10 miles a day down and old stock route, travelling to find a feed.

Four thousand hooves moving south,

i was always in the lead,

The dogs would always circle,

and bark when you pulled the girth.

They’d been on the road for 8 years now,

most since birth.

The good old stockhorse,

he was always ready everyday,

A scoop of oats in his feed at night,

kept him this way.

The hobble chains would jingle,

from your saddle as you rode,

The soundtrack to a life

that most will never know.

So here’s to all the drovers,

still out there travelling today,

May the grass rise above your spurs,

and the rain be on its way.

From the Canning to the Birdsville Track,

the Georgina and the Muranji

From the Barkly to the Hay Plains.

And the Snowy Mountains high.

The old drover his still working,

Bedding the cattle down tonight.

He dreams of the big old stock camps,

From his new home in the sky.

Published by Nelle

I am interested in writing short stories for my pleasure and my family's but although I have published four family books I will not go down that path again but still want what I write out there so I will see how this goes

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