Victoria's Garden State.

[Duncan Williams.]

Victoria's Garden State.


In the south of Australia, the Victorian State,
From that big river Murray, a pleasure is great.
Paddle steamers they paddle, house boats as well,
Cause we hold to the memories, the stories they tell.

In the home of Ned Kelly, Glenrowans its name,
Where he rode in full armour, real daring and game.
The stature of the Bush-Ranger, stands tall in the street,
In the old town of Glenrowan, for visitors to meet.

The fruit land of Shepparton, tomatoes and pears,
That they pick in the seasons, without worry or cares.
Green pastures well irrigated, top country we know,
They hold a special concert, at Kyabram Rodeo.

In those hills around Ballarat, and old Sovereign Hill,
Step back to our history, where time remains still.
Read the gold rush stories, relic of Eureka Stockade,
Blood upon the Southern Cross, the original barricade.

And back towards Mildura, through mallee country fine,
Vineyards run in endless acres, producing fruit and wine.
In the south of Australia, the great old garden state,
From that big river Murray, a pleasure you'll find great.

[camus]

Duncan,

This is painful to read.

Your rhyme is undoubtedly forced and corny to the extreme, childish, horrendous.

One question - Have you read any Poetry?

"a pleasure is great." I dare not venture further.

Just read this, hopefully you'll recognise how the Murray Green basin should be celebrated:

HAIL to Arco, your fellows need you now!

When I was a young man I carried my pack
And I lived the free life of a rover
From the Murrays green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in nineteen fifteen my country said Son
It's time to stop rambling 'cause there's work to be done
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they sent me away to the war
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we sailed away from the quay
And amidst all the tears and the shouts and the cheers
We sailed off to Gallipoli

How well I remember that terrible day
How the blood stained the sand and the water
And how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk he was ready, he primed himself well
He chased us with bullets, he rained us with shells
And in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hell
Nearly blew us right back to Australia
But the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we stopped to bury our slain
We buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then we started all over again

Now those that were left, well we tried to survive
In a mad world of blood, death and fire
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
But around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over tit
And when I woke up in my hospital bed
And saw what it had done, I wished I was dead
Never knew there were worse things than dying
For no more I'll go waltzing Matilda
All around the green bush far and near
For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs two legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me

So they collected the cripples, the wounded, the maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where my legs used to be
And thank Christ there was nobody waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to pity
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared
Then turned all their faces away

And now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
And I watch my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reliving old dreams of past glory
And the old men march slowly, all bent, stiff and sore
The forgotten heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask, "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question
And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men answer to the call
But year after year their numbers get fewer
Some day no one will march there at all

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who'll come a waltzing Matilda with me
And their ghosts may be heard as you pass the Billabong
Who'll come-a-waltzing Matilda with me?

[Bombadil]

Duncan is a published writer with an established following...or some such fuck nonsense. You've given me great hope, sir. If someone published this, none of the rest of us should ever fear being rejected--they'll publish anything.

Beyond that, I think Kris said it all.

Are you here to learn or just to post?

Cheers,

B.

[Sean Kinsella]

DUNCAN

The rhyme scheme is somewhat contrived...If you want to write in a strict 4-4 compression, then you have to keep meaning as well as meter in mind.

Two lines you could develop and re-deploy:-

"In the home of Ned Kelly, Glenrowan's it's name
where he rode in full armour, real daring and game"

- that last line sounds like an outback expression of the 1870's to me, and actually works.

You could keep the line preceding if you so desire but I would change 'it's' to 'by', and knock the 's' off 'Glenrowan'

I would then re-work quite colloquially around Mr. Kelly, and see where that leads.

BEST REGARDS
SEAN KINSELLA