G'day to my readers, hope all is well with you all and you are coping with the isolation and lock downs that are presently current here is OZ. With any luck and a fair breeze we will all survive and come out at the end of the tunnel sooner than later, and of course , with our health.
Below is a poem I have just completed and do hope you enjoy, and can feel the emotion I tried to express within the story line.
All the best, and stay safe and well through the crisis that is upon us, Hooroo for now.
Darrell.
The
Last Cattle Drive
Well
I’m headin out to Cameron’s Corner along the overland track
Yes,
I’m headin to Cameron’s Corner with my swag across my back
With
Wallaby Bob my mongrel dog steadfastly at my side….
I’m
tramping off to Cameron’s Corner... to join the last cattle drive
Yes,
I’ve made it to Thargominda... where the earth is stubble bare
And
I’ve tossed a well used saddle across a wiry old grey mare
And
with Wallaby Bob my Mongrel dog still undaunted by my side
I’m
headin west of Thargominda to join the last cattle drive.
Now
Cameron’s Corner is beyond the long bend ... maybe five days ride
away
Nary
a wet river bed to cross but under a paperbark my soul I can lay
With
wallaby bob my mongrel dog still trekking through the dust
To
make Cameron’s Corner and the cattle drive is demanding... but a
must
There’s
been no rain for years out along this lone and dusty track
Water
troughs at every cattle grid but it’s the water that they lack
The
crows and the dingo’s have joined up with the roo’s and the flies
So
it’s off to the next grid under the starfest of this far flung
western sky
The
sighting of Cameron’s Corner arrived with a day or two to spare
It
was a sight to see, the cattle...all yarded, and the stockmen waitin
there
Leanin
over those splinty rails, rollin fags, and sharin lots of lust,
Yes,
Cameron’s Corner was a sight to savour after our battle with the
dust
So
I threw down my swag and boiled the billy in the shade of an old gum
tree
I
hobbled and fed the old grey mare as wallaby bob he stayed close to
me
With
the afternoon sun a blaze of anger just waiting to ignite any lost
paper
The
stockmen fighting to save any moisture from turning into ascending
vapour
Four
thirty in the mornin, so brisk. with a shroud of fog layin across the
ground
A
wisp of smoke, the smell of burnt bacon and a brewed coffee... mug
bound
The
cattle lowing restless in the yards waitng for the “move em out”
call….
The
sunrise imminent when from Cameron’s Corner we begin the withdrawl.
The
last cattle drive is swingin into action as the yard gates are opened
up wide
“Move
em out..head em up”.. the call from the drovin boss as we begin the
ride
The
ride that will leave us with but memories of all those drovin days
gone by...
I
just hope that when we arrive at the rail head... Wallaby Bob my
mongrel dog..is still there by my side.
Darrell
B Parker
Weaver
of Words and Emotions
21.4.20
