The Bard from the Scrub

By A. B. “Ben” Eggleton

The poetry of A. B. Ben Eggleton is based entirely on the experiences of his, his familys, and their associated friends lives and on the ups and downs and the ins and outs of the walk all people take. Along with him walked the people he wanted to be there, not those who just thought they should be!

The creations printed within this book are from the heart, soul, pain, laughter, life experiences, and internal workings of the brain. Theyre distinctively Australian in feel, just like the author!

Nevertheless, many depict scenes that could resonate from anywhere in the world.

Read and enjoy!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Jul 18, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514498323

Book preview

Abel

Wrapped in cloth, all white and clinical.

Lay my young boy,

His life on a string, ’tween life and beyond,

In my arms, a toy.

His big blue eyes looked up through clouds of haze,

An intense puzzle in them set,

On his lips poised a question, he asked of his Dad,

In heaven what do I get?

I couldn’t answer; as tears welled up in my heart.

For this son of mine, only three,

He slipped away from me then; as in deaf, dumb, silence.

I asked what for, why me?

His answer, I couldn’t give, I was stunned by the silent form.

As silently I turned to go,

I realised, as behind me, the death room door closed,

His Daddy didn’t know!

ben.jpg

Why

We remember yet,

The sons of this land,

That lay down their tools,

To give a mate a hand.

To wade through hell,

And cry endless, painful tears,

For mates lost on foreign lands.

An ache numbed only by years.

We often wonder why,

They all went and did,

All the things they had,

For what the powers had bid.

Medals they gave them,

On ribbons all bright,

That bring back memories,

Of every lonely, torrid fight.

As proudly they marched to the beat,

Of a drum, not all could hear.

Some would fall, and never be found.

Some would stand alone in fear,

Even those with no legs, or arms,

Or eyes that would never see,

Won’t forget the sounds they had heard,

As flesh and life, ceased to be,

Through a silent, still dawning,

I sit on my porch, and wish

I could be where the brass is sounding.

Standing tall and proud, looking swish.

Medals gleaming, gold and silver bright,

As mornings rays glint upon them.

My mates all by my side,

Minds memories drifting, to back when.

The piper sounds the starting call.

A stirring noise of marching feet,

Echoes off silent buildings.

I see them all salute and greet,

My tear filled eyes, as I look

Down at the place my legs used to be,

And I wonder why such evil men

Had made someone take them from me.

We often wonder why,

We all went and did,

All the things we had,

For what the powers had bid.

Drop In The Ocean

Yesterday was but a drop in the ocean,

To what tomorrow can be.

Let your heart fly free,

Come sail with me.

Yesterday was but a drop in the ocean,

To what tomorrow can be.

It made a tidal wave,

To sweep me off my feet.

Drop in the ocean,

Drop in the ocean,

Flooded my heart with love,

Set my spirit free.

Tomorrow another sunrise dawning,

Brightly shining on me.

Setting free my heartstrings,

Firing love up in me.

Tomorrow, another sunrise dawning.

Brightly shining on me.

Giving life to love a dawning,

Like sunshine out of the cold.

Don’t Say

Don’t say you love me babe,

Don’t be so cruel.

Don’t say you love me babe,

I’ll just fall for you.

You left me standing there,

My heart in my hand.

All alone with nothing left,

You left me standing there.

Don’t say you love me babe,

I need a heart that’s true.

Don’t say you love me babe,

’Cause I’m just not your fool.

Another one took your heart,

You ran all over town.

Telling all the world you see,

Another one took your heart.

They brought you diamond rings,

Gave you gifts of gold.

Promised they would marry you,

They brought you diamond rings.

Then said, "go back to your fool,

I’m tired of you".

You cried and thought of me,

They said, ‘go back to your fool’.

Old Friends

I look at the stars,

To count the friends I have.

So many fade, drift away with the breeze of ill content.

No measure to them was I,

To what their thoughts,

Of how they thought I should be.

My pockets didn’t rattle as loud,

As they thought they could hear.

Where need, not greed really should,

The measure be, for true hearts

To sing a song to share.

Now look at my hands,

All battered, bent and worn.

They’ve battled and worked for mates,

For the family to whom we give.

The fingers I count number ten,

I’ve carried for scores of years.

The count for mates had never

Filled the number out.

Just goes to show, years may fade,

The eyes and memories grow dim,

But mates go on for life and time.

It holds steadfast, true and dear.

My Land My Country

My land, my country is as diverse

As the path of human life.

Each day you wake, each night you sleep,

Is different from the last.

Each hill you climb, each road you travel,

Leads to a new adventure.

You could be sitting upon the highest peak,

With a chill wind blowing.

Or floating on a peaceful, tranquil waterway,

Warm sun shining on you.

Even standing in the middle of a moonscape,

With rocks scattered all round.

What a wondrous place we have around us,

With animals so unique,

To be entrusted with