Old Dave Was A Shearer

One in his life's twilight without phobias or fears Old Dave was a shearer for fifty one years Not going into old age like most old blokes and old dears For the what used to be he does not have any tears In pubs in bush towns one who did drink many a beer He has memories of sweating for his pay in shearing sheds and nights of barroom cheer And though alcohol he has not given away He does not drink as much as he used to today For one in his eighties he looks healthy and well The fruit cakes and pies that his wife Ann bakes at the local markets he does sell Not in any great hurry to eternal rest in the grave He is one who does love life the octogenarian Dave He and Ann his wife of near sixty years are a great grand mum and a great grand dad One without tears for the past for the now he feels glad A wrinkled old fellow his hair silver gray He says he is happy in his life today As tough as old boots of him one can say In his younger years he sweated for his every pay In their market stall he sells the pies and cakes baked by Ann his wife Old Dave in his eighties is one who loves life.