02/05/2026
By the crackling fire, under the starry sky,
The camp boss leans back with a glint in his eye.
With a smoke in his hand and a smile on his face,
He spins tales of old, in this warm, cozy place.
Of adventures and legends, from long, long ago.
We rode over mountains where the wild rivers flow, through gullies and thickets our horses would blow.
Catching wild brumbies throw after throw.
He recalls the campfires, the laughter, the cheer,
Of friendships forged strong, through each passing year.
With a twinkle he tells of a storm and a fight,
How they braved the dark shadows and emerged into light, sat hunched by the fire all through the night , the ground to wet with melting snow.
So here by the fire, with the embers aglow,
The camp boss keeps watch, as the soft breezes blow.
With each passing puff, as the smoke curls and sways,
He weaves the rich fabric of those cherished days.”
