Classic and Contemporary Poetry
HOLUS BOLUS, by E. G. MURPHY First Line: He lay in the hospital, pallid and weak Last Line: "for the blithering camel blew first!" Alternate Author Name(s): Dryblower Subject(s): Accidents; Camels; Sickness; Illness | ||||||||
HE lay in the hospital, pallid and weak, The wreck of a once healthy man; His breathing was wheezy, his voice was a squeak, As his story of woe he began. "'Twas Danny O'Hara," he murmured in pain, "Who told me his camel was bad A bulky young bull, with the strength of a crane, But a temperament quiet and sad. "O'Hara, who'd drifted from Kimberley down, Had scratched every field to Lefroy, And shifted the countryred, yellow and brown For the metal elusive and coy. "Through seasons of flushness and seasons of 'slate', He'd managed to battle and roam, Unmoved by all offers to purchase the mate Whose hump he regarded as home. "And the camel was sicklaid limp in his tracks, As his mother had laid, full of spears When Danny had shattered the phalanx of blacks, And wiped off a pile of arrears. "O'Hara had left him at Cassidy's Hill, And he'd call me an angel from heaven If I'd help him to give him a pick-me-up pill And keep him from throwing a seven. "A pipe was procuredthree feet of bamboo Then Danny, myself and the pill Went bravely this medical office to do For the patient at Cassidy's Hill. "'When the pill's in the pipe, and the pipe's in his jaws Which I'll open,' O'Hara observed 'You'll place the free end of the blow-pipe in yours And puff when his gullet's uncurved. "'I'd blow it myself, but my bellows are weak, For I've got a young winze in my lung; Since I argued the point with the blacks at the Peak My puffing machinery's bung. "'The pill is composed,' he further explained, 'Of axle-grease, sulphur and tar; While a piquant and suitable flavour is gained By a dip in the kerosene jar. "'To aid his digestion there's tin-tacks and shot, Then I've seasoned it strongly with snuff; And I want in his system to scatter the lot, So take a deep breath when you puff.' "With the pipe to my lips a long 'un I drew, Till my diaphragm threatened to burst, When, bang down my gullet the flaming pill flew, For the blithering camel blew first!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SICK CHILD by RANDALL JARRELL AFTERNOON AT MACDOWELL by JANE KENYON HAVING IT OUT WITH MELANCHOLY by JANE KENYON SONNET: 9. HOPE by WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES |
|