Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

[C. J. Dennis] (7 September 1876 - 22 June 1938 / Auburn, South Australia)

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis Poems

81. Arch Criminal 8/29/2012
82. Armistice Day 1933 8/30/2012
83. Armistice: To His Dead Cobber From The Sentimental Bloke 8/31/2012
84. Art Is Long - Hair Is Shorter 8/30/2012
85. As Between Pensioners 8/29/2012
86. As Old George Said 8/29/2012
87. Asking Too Much 9/4/2012
88. Aunt Evangeline Approves 8/29/2012
89. Autumn Interlude 8/28/2012
90. Autumn Song 8/28/2012
91. 'Ave A 'Eart! 9/3/2012
92. Averted Violence 9/5/2012
93. Bacchus Marsh 8/29/2012
94. Ballad Of Bopard Defied 8/29/2012
95. Ballad Of Captious Critics 8/29/2012
96. Ballad Of Lieges 8/30/2012
97. Ballarat 8/30/2012
98. Barley Grass 9/6/2012
99. Beauty's Blemish 8/31/2012
100. Beef Tea 9/3/2012
101. Before The War 9/3/2012
102. Benalla 8/30/2012
103. Bendigo 8/30/2012
104. Bert 9/6/2012
105. Bill 9/4/2012
106. 'Billy' 8/31/2012
107. Billy's Policeman 8/30/2012
108. Bird - Seed 8/29/2012
109. Bird Song 1/1/2004
110. Bird Song - Crow 9/1/2012
111. Bird Song - Kookaburra 9/1/2012
112. Birds, Batsmen And Bowlers 8/29/2012
113. Birthday Honours 8/30/2012
114. Black And White 8/31/2012
115. Black Saturday 8/30/2012
116. Black-Out 8/31/2012
117. Blokes 8/31/2012
118. Bobbie 8/30/2012
119. 'Bobbie' For Brotherhood 8/28/2012
120. Bonds 9/5/2012
Best Poem of Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

An Echo From Africa

Da ruction happen by Nicko's place
Las' week, in da deada da night.
Da copper he very near cop da case
Accounta da fish-shop fight
In da great beeg international way
Dat wrecka da oyster bar.
Now Nicko he grinda da tooth an' say,
'Da white-a man rule, by gar!'

Sammo, da slush, wit' da dark-tan face,
Scale an' clean-a fish
Long time he toila by Nicko's place,
Washa da dirty dish.
But Nicko he say, 'Da t'ings get slow;
Dis war make da beezness slack.
Dat Sammo, da slush, he have to go.'
So Nicko he sacka da black.

Las-a night, when Sammo ...

Read the full of An Echo From Africa

Our Cow

Down by the slipralls stands our cow
Chewing, chewing, chewing,
She does not care what folks out there
In the great, big world are doing.
She sees the small cloud-shadows pass
And green grass shining under.
If she does think, what does she think
About it all, I wonder?

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