Now, shearers’ cooks, as shearers know,
Are very seldom wont to blow;
But when I took to dabbing tar
And ‘picking-up’ on Blaringar,
The cook, when ‘barbers’ came at morn
To get a snack, would say, with scorn:
‘Tea on the left,
Coffee on the right,
Brownie on the bunk, and blast yez!’
The ‘bunk’ or slab was in the hut,
And on it ‘brownie’ ready cut;
Two buckets o’er the fire would be –
One filled with coffee, one with tea;
And when the chaps came filing in
The cook would say, with mirthless grin:
‘Tea on the left,
Coffee on the right,
Brownie on the bunk, and blast yez!’
Peculiar man, this shearers’ cook,
And had a very ugly look.
To me – a new-chum rouseabout,
Said he, one day when all were out:
‘There’s nothing in this world, my lad,
That’s worth your worry, good or bad;
Grief on the left,
Sorrow on the right,
Trouble on the bunk, but blast it!’
(William Thomas Goodge)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, World Poems, Sadness Poems, Fire Poems, Grief Poems, Tea Poems, Worry Poems, Coffee PoemsBased on Keywords: filing, snack, brownie, barbers, mirthless, new-chum, rouseabout, yez, dabbing, picking-up