Just a swaggies tale

My Dad lived most of his life in the Bush of Australia, he loved the many tales that came from the Bush. I thought today for a change of pace I would have a go at telling a swaggies tale for the early 20th Century. Medicine in the old days in the Bush of Australia was either Whiskey or Port a fortified wine..

He lived on his own
Wandering unknown land
Yet known to all on this land
A weather beaten old man
He carried his belongings
On his shoulders, all the things he needed
Not a care in the world
Never learning to read or write
Finding work wherever he could
Across the Outback
He followed tracks
By day and night
Sleeping when he could
No matter where
There wasn’t a place
He knew to be home
Yet he knew many
While he roamed this land
The many he knew
Trusted his knowledge of the land
While visiting a town that was close
He would stop for a dose of the medicine
Sold by the publican on a dusty trail
Stopping for a while while tasting the medicine
He found life was a haze while he was in town
When the medicine was done and he slept awhile
Time to move on
Finding a camp, he would sit and tell stories
Of a journey he had covered, tales of a life wandering the roads
His tales were filled with colour, across the Outback
Following the sun and the golden sunrises
His resting times were over, time to find work again


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