[LINK] O/t: Henry Lawson Colonial Poet

[Marghanita da Cruz]

Henry Lawson received first hand experience of WW1

1. "Grant was a frequent visitor to Henry Lawson's home in North Sydney. 
Cowan another returned soldier would play the violin while Grant 
provided the conversation while Lawson wrote.(ref 
<https://ramin.com.au/annandale/story1-douglas-grant.shtml#hl>)"

2. Another friend of Lawson at the later phase was Douglas Grant, who is 
a pure blood aborigine, born in North Queensland and educated In Sydney, 
Douglu once told me bow he and Cowan with the violin, often used to go 
over to where Lawson lodged In North Sydney, where Cowan would play 
whilst Lawson sat writing at tha table, which was usually cover ed with 
old newspaper In lieu of a table-cloth. Douglas did not say what he did 
on those occasions but he is a very good conversationalist and like 
Cowan, he had been to the front so they had much to talk about, 
especially Douglas' experiences of his life when captured by the 
Germans.1936 'HENRY LAWSON AND THE VIOLIN.', Townsville Daily Bulletin 
(Qld. : 1885 - 1954), 6 August, p. 8, viewed 23 July, 2013, 
http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article64079226

3. Video - The Skin of Others: when Douglas Grant met Henry Lawson 
https://youtu.be/ZJ9_zOXoIMY

Marghanita

On 3/3/25 18:19, Antony Barry wrote:
> On Sun, Mar 2, 2025 at 1:04 AM Stephen Loosley <stephenloosley at zoho.com>
> wrote:
>
>> Every Man Should have a Rifle
>>
>>
>>
>>
> Apologies for this I asked Chat-GPT to write a poem in the style of Lawson
> about the Trump-Zelenskyy meeting in the oval office -
>
> The Meeting in the Oval Room
> (In the Style of Henry Lawson)
>
> The Yanks they sat in Washington, beneath the grand White Dome,
> Where power shifts like desert sands and egos make their home.
> The cameras clicked, the voices hummed, the world stood still to see,
> As Trump sat grand, with outstretched hand, beside Zelenskyy.
>
> A man from lands where winters bite and war drums never cease,
> He came to seek the iron might that might restore some peace.
> His suit was neat, his shoulders squared, his gaze was sharp and keen,
> Yet in his eyes, a shadow lay—of things he’d heard and seen.
>
> And Trump, he leaned back in his chair, his grin both wide and sly,
> He waved his hand, dismissed the past, and loosed a heavy sigh.
> “You’re doing great,” he told the man, “a leader strong and bold!
> Now tell me more—perhaps, my friend, of Biden’s deeds of old?”
>
> The air grew thick, the moment paused, the cameras caught the stare—
> Of one who saw diplomacy and one who played it bare.
> Zelenskyy’s smile was tight and thin, his words were clear yet few,
> For in his heart he weighed the cost of deals with men untrue.
>
> The meeting ended, hands were clasped, the world was left to guess—
> Had honour stood, or had it bowed to whispers in the press?
> And back beyond the Dnieper’s bend, where cannon echoes roared,
> The people watched, the people hoped—and prayed they weren’t ignored.
>
-- 
Marghanita da Cruz
Telephone: 0414-869202
Email:  marghanita at ramin.com.au
Website: http://ramin.com.au