Vonda Stanley's collection of early Australian bush poems

 

 

 

THE JESTER IN THE TRENCH

"That just reminds me of a yarn," he said;

And look for the body of Lofty Lane

He had a thousand yarns inside his head.

They waited for him, ready with their mirth

And creeping smiles, - then suddenly turned pale,

Grew still, and gazed upon the earth.

They heard no tale. No further word was said.

And with his untold fun,

Half leaning on his gun,

They left him - dead.

   Leon Gellert