Poems by C. J. Dennis

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A Bush Christmas



The sun burns hotly thro' the gums
As down the road old Rogan comes -
The hatter from the lonely hut
Beside the track to Woollybutt.
He likes to spend his Christmas with us here.
He says a man gets sort of strange
Living alone without a change,
Gets sort of settled in his way;
And so he comes each Christmas day
To share a bite of tucker and a beer.

Dad and the boys have nought to do,
Except a stray odd job or two.
Along the fence or in the yard,
"It ain't a day for workin' hard."
Says Dad. "One day a year don't matter much."
And then dishevelled, hot and red,...

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Poems by C. J. Dennis

A Freak of Spring



At any other time of year
It might have passed, but Spring is queer.
He says somethin' - I dunno -
Somethin' nasty. I says, "Ho!"
"Ho, yourself!" he says, an' glares.
I says nothin' - only stares.
"Coot!" says he . . . Then up she goes!
An' I land him on the nose.

It was Spring, Spring, Spring! Just to hear the thrushes sing
Would make a fellow laugh, or love, or fight like anything.
Which mood called I wasn't carin'; I was feelin' fine an' darin';
So I fetches him a beauty with a lovely left-arm swing.
Ben Murray staggered back a bit an' howled a wicked word
Which gave me feelin's of great joy . . . An' that's how it occurred....

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Poems by C. J. Dennis

A Spring Song



The world 'as got me snouted jist a treat;
Crool Forchin's dirty left 'as smote me soul;
An' all them joys o' life I 'eld so sweet
Is up the pole.
Fer, as the poit sez, me 'eart 'as got
The pip wiv yearnin' fer - I dunno wot.

I'm crook; me name is Mud; I've done me dash;
Me flamin' spirit's got the flamin' 'ump!
I'm longin' to let loose on somethin' rash….
Aw, I'm a chump!
I know it; but this blimed ole Springtime craze
Fair outs me, on these dilly, silly days.

The young green leaves is shootin' on the trees,
The air is like a long, cool swig o' beer,
The bonzer smell o' flow'rs is on the breeze...

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Poems by C. J. Dennis

Autumn Interlude



I said goodbye to the bees last Friday week,
To blooms, and to things like these, for Winter bleak
Was shouting loud from the hills, and flinging high
His gossamer net that fills frail Autumn's sky.
So I said goodbye to the bees; for I knew that soon
I should bask no more 'neath the trees on some high noon
And hark to the drowsy hum close overhead.
For the cold and rain must come, now Summer's dead.

So I wallowed a while in woe and wooed unease;
And I rather liked it so; for it seemed to please
Some clamoring inner urge -- some need apart,
And I felt self-pity surge, here, in my heart
As I said goodbye to the bees, my tireless friends
Who toil mid the flowers and the trees till daylight ends --
Who toil in the sun, yet seem to find no irk,
While I loll in the shade and dream; for I do love work....

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Poems by C. J. Dennis

Autumn Song



With the advent of the Autumn
Trees behave as Nature taught 'em;
Maple, Sumach, Plum and Poplar, and the Chestnut known as Horse,
Ere they shed the Summer fashion,
Break into a perfect passion
Of sweet rivalry in color (if deciduous, of course).

Autumn comes, and Claret Ashes,
Liquidambars, showing splashes
From her palette, don the motley - Joseph's coats of many a hue:
Russet-red and golden-yellow
As the season waxes mellow.
As for me, like certain gum-trees, I perversely grow more blue.

I would quaff in ample measure
Every draught of Autumn's pleasure...

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Poems by C. J. Dennis

Bosses Don't Seem Right - A Christmas Monologue



The thing’s all wrong (I sez to ‘im)
Now look, there’s this ‘ere Monday, Jim,
Comes before Christmas. Be a toff
An’ lest us ‘ave the Monday off.
‘E ‘ums an’ ‘ars. An’ then he’s got
To talk a lot of silly rot
Abut ‘ow business binds a man;
An’ ‘e don’t quite see ‘ow ‘e can
Afford to give me Monday in,
Seein’ he’ll lose a lot of tin
Under our capit’listic plan
Which sort of binds a business man
‘Lest his competitors was bound
To give the Monday all around.

If but (‘e sez) they would agree
To let the trade ‘ave Monday free...

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Poems by C. J. Dennis

Bridles for Butterflies



They must not talk....That strong and silent creature,
The male of homo sapiens, bears the ban
With calm aplomb. Speech is a trivial feature
In any sport conducted by mere man.
Thus, when our flannelled Knights go forth to battle,
They dumbly concentrate upon the game.
But must athletic Eve refrain from prattle
Because of that? No, no! 'Tis not the same.

Sauce for the goose, 'tis said, is sauce for gander,
And vice versa. Futile euphony!
To differentiate, defer and pander
Was e'er the rule when dealing with the "She."
Sharp hooks in ears of elephants may steer them
Quite painlessly. But what sane man would try
To harness doves, or bring a halter near them,
Or bit and bridle to a butterfly?...

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Poems by C. J. Dennis

Christmas Scene



To this green place the tourists troop,
By twos, by threes, and group by group,
Lads in bright blazers, girls in slacks,
Hikers with rucksack on their backs.
And bush ways, till their advent stilled,
With joyous shouting now is filled
"Cooee!" each gay town-dweller cries,
And counts himself full forest wise.

An old grey bushman lounging by
Marks the sophisticated cry
And smiles a little as he says,
"The city folk got real queer ways.
What's this here 'cooee' mean at all?
Seems like a kind of mating call.
Childish they seem." He smiles again,
The wise one in his own domain....

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Poems by C. J. Dennis

City of Dreams



Oh, we might have a marvellous city
Were we only less keen on cash
Less avid for things -- more's the pity --
That fade and are gone in a flash,
A city where duffers in my line
In wrapt adoration fall flat
To behold its superlative skyline --
But there isn't much money in that.

Oh, we might have a city most splendid
Were sordid self-seeking denied.
Were good taste and culture attended
By pride that transcends money-pride.
Then, urged by more glorious dreaming
Than moved beneath Pericles' hat,
We would out-Athens Athens in scheming
But -- there isn't much money in that....

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Poems by C. J. Dennis

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