With saddle grease on my trouser seatAnd whiskers on my chin,I’ve been 5 days in the saddleAnd it’s time for turning in.Rolling out my welcome swagOn a bed of springy grass,I’ll rest my weary bonesAnd let the cool evening pass.In the blue-black moonless skyThe stars are a magic sight,Filling the darkest cornerWith sparkling diamond light.From the southern cross to orionAlong the milky way,The landscape of the heavensReflects the mountain’s lay.While the camping horses grazeAbout the open plains,And send me on my dreaming waysTo the lilting rattle of hobble chains.Now in the mists of my sleepy mindA ghost horse comes to me,“come ride with me to the milky wayWhere the horses are running free.”I see some horses in the darkOn the back roads of briagolong,The striking steel shoes make a sparkOn the quartz as they trot along.The horses push to the river bankExcited fearless and keen,Then plunge to breast the waterAnd swim the flooded stream.Now i give my horse his headOn a sunny high plains day,To freely canter as he willAcross the pretty valley way.We’re pushing through snow and flurriesIt’s cold but we’re rugged and warm,The horses push on regardlessTo find a safe camp in the storm.I can hear the silent groundThe buggers have gone from camp,Are they grazing the snowgum scrubOr homeward at a hobbled tramp.The night-horse snorts all lonelyI ask him to find his mates,As we swing along the starry pathPast the dream-maker’s gates.The track is not scrubby or bushyAnd my mount is all horses i’ve known,The ground is not earth and rockyWe are searching for horses renowned.Through the shadows and shafts of starlightThe legendary mob runs fast,The good horses of kids and heroesHave all gathered from the past.They stand and call my night hackTo run the milky-way wood,Follow their winding trackAnd find the home paddock for good.We race onto orion’s swordThe wing fence that will show the way,Out along the shinning ridgeTo the stockyard in the sky.The old books call it orionIt’s all in the beholders eye,To others it’s just a saucepanBut i see the stockyard in the sky.It’s where all the good horses goWhen they leave this mortal land,To the north of the milky-way scrubThe wing fence and stockyard stand.