The Dusty Men

The Dusty Men

 

Four men travel a dusty road

Tight of belt and light of load

Weary feet shuffling slow

Where do the four dusty men go?

 

Man number one is a man named Tom

He never speaks much of where he is from

But he holds the ace of spades with a tear in his eye

As the bright sun sets in the twilight sky

 

Man number two goes by the name of Bert

Wearing the rags of a silken shirt

Early each morning with a flask of gin

He sneaks off alone to quietly sing

 

Man number three is a spry old cricket

Said his friends out west called him Wicket

With gnarly old fingers as light as a breeze

He lifts heavy purses just as easy as you please

 

Man number four doesnt say much

The other dusty men all call him Dutch

They can’t imagine that his road has been fun

For poor old Dutch doesn’t have a tongue

 

Four dusty men travel a dusty road

Tight of belt and light of load

None can ever say if the dusty men know

Where the roads they travel even go

 

©Aarron Mondello

2/11/2018

 

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A Hallowed Night

 

 

Creaking floorboards in the hall

Shadows creeping up the walls

Ol’ Pumpkin head with eyes aflame

Screaming spooks gone insane

 

Laughter deep within the closet

Not game enough to stand and close it

Dark places filling hearts with dread

As smiling teeth glint under the bed

 

Hollow cries and night time howls

Silent fall the hunting owls

As through the back garden creeps

One who will steal you in your sleep

 

Warts and pus filled growths abide

On the witches leather hide

Over a sleeping town she flies

Cackling madly at the skies

 

In the light of a full yellow moon

A beast is born to hunger soon

Thick of fur with giant paws

Tearing fangs and rending claws

 

Here on this night the veil grows thin

Realm of life and death mingling

The faded ghost of a loved one lost

Pay respects or pay the cost

 

©Aarron Mondello

29/10/2018

 

Down to the billabong

 

The buzz of life is in the air
Magpies sing their morning song
And a fat old shuffling wombat
Plodded down to the billabong

“Mornin’ Roo” the wombat said
“Set to be a lovely day”
But the cranky big red only grunted
And rudely hopped away

“So it is, Wombat old boy”
Said Brown Snake in the grass
“and don’t mind Red, for as we know
He is prone to be an arse”

Wombat chuckled softly
And continued to shuffle along
Chatting with Brown Snake
Heading down to the billabong

They made their way towards the bank
Of the the still, inviting pool
Passed under a great big gum tree
Through shade so very cool

“Ooroo you two. Say, what’s new?”
Came a slow voice from the tree
Wombat looked up and who’d he spy?
Koala, as high as he could be

“G’day Koala,” wombat said
With a smile for their meeting
“It comes as no surprise to see
Again you’re bloody eating”

“Yeah man” Koala slurred
Then promptly fell asleep
And Wombat thought “Bloody Hell,
Those leaves must be a treat”

On he shambled, old Wombat
A slow and leisurely crawl
When just a few paces on
He heard Black Cockies raucous call

“Wombat, you plod, move along
Before the waters all drunk dry
It never is a pleasant sight
To see a wombat cry”

“Ha Ha Galah, very funny
You’re such a flaming riot.
Do the whole bushland a favour
And just be bloody quiet”

Black Cockies laugh echoed
Through the bushland all around
While unbeknownst to Wombat
Came Emu tall and proud

Too late Emu saw him
And tried to slow her run
Long legs becoming tangled
She fell hard on to her bum

“Emu!” Wombat called out loud
“Love, are you alright?
Did you bruise yourself,
Falling from such height”?

Emu wobbled to her feet
“I’m fine, just carry on”
And feeling quite embarrassed
She fled to the billabong

Dingo slunk down the path
Echidnas quill stuck in her snout
And Wombat heard the snickering
Of Echidna near about

Old Frilled Neck ran past
Frill rustling in the wind
Coming first in a race
That only she was in

A shadow passed over Wombat
Kookaburra flying high
Laughing at the shenanigans
He spied from in the sky

Then Wombat came finally
To the banks where Wood Duck nests
He stopped near an old campfire
To take a minutes rest

He snuffed the ground for sign of man
But the human had moved on
It seemed all manner of creatures
Came down to the billabong

©Aarron Mondello
7/10/2018

Image credit: An image of A billabong by Harold Cazneaux

River of life

Take into your liquid embrace

The soul of purest fire

Temper in your swift currents

The flame of pure desire

 

Wash away the sins of hate

In your churning foam

Cradle the fractured heart

Amongst your smooth white stones

 

Soothe the burns of the past

With rapid rushing waves

Take the elixir of life

And scour away the pain

 

Erode the banks of anger

With your winding course

And sing to the floundering ones

Who wait upon your shores

 

©Aarron Mondello

26/9/2018

Thank you

I want to take this moment to thank each and every one of you who read, like or share my words.
With around 400 people following my work across Facebook, Instagram and here on WordPress I have, in some way, touched more people than I honestly ever thought I would and in turn I have been touched and blessed by your support.
You have all helped me grow in confidence within myself in a way I find hard to express and words are not something I usually find a lack of.
So Thank You, everyone, truly and sincerely.
I hope you continue to find my poetry worthy of your affection ❤
– Aarron Mondello

The peace of you

 

On shaky legs I stand

A pressure in my chest

Noises in my thoughts

That scarce allow me rest

Thumping in my ears

The rush of blood so loud

Like storm winds lashing heartstrings

With boiling, blackened clouds

That bare down upon on me with

The weight of a world behind

Yet when I hold your eyes with mine

Peace is what I find

 

©Aarron Mondello

19/9/2018

Spring Surrounds

Springs surround

 

Standing here in Springs surround

Blooming coloured life abounds

Whisper kisses in a gentle waft

That send butterflies to flutter aloft

A lone pink petal drifts smoothly down

In my newly blooming spring surrounds

 

Cradled warm in Springs surround

While dappled shadows dance around

Through lazy swishing new green leaves

As they too feel the sweetly breeze

Majestic sunlight filters down

A calming peace in my Spring surrounds

 

Senses swimming in Springs surround

A hidden bird sings a trilling sound

Safely obscured by budding branches

Succumbing to springs sultry advances

Blooming coloured life abounds

In my slow to waking Spring surrounds

 

©Aarron Mondello

14/9/2018