Whatever happens to an Old Time Drover

Always wanted to be a drover (Jackaroo) from way back when I was a boy. I even wrote a letter to Dalgety's in SA when I was 15 seeking a possible position on a Cattle Station when I left school, unfortunately I never received a reply, and hence my life took a different direction on leaving school and the opportunity never arose again. Still never stopped admiring the cattlemen out west, infatuated with all the stories that came to hand over the years, an amazing bunch of immortals to me.

 “WHATEVER HAPPENS TO AN OLD TIME DROVER”

Whatever happens to an old time drover?

When his light begins to fade…

Whatever happens to an old time drover?

And the life that he has made…

Will he continue to push?

A mob through the bush,

And run the rogue till it’s standin still,

Will he camp beside the creek?

Where the waters forever sweet…

And watch the moon arise o’er top of the hill,

Will he recall that night on the track

Out beyond the outback

When the rain began to feed the soil,

How he pushed on through the flood

That swamped the mallee scrub,

With just a bob and his keep for the toil,

Will he remember the time?

Way back in thirty nine,

When the Great War took him away overseas,

Where he was given a gun

And told to charge on the run,

And forget his mates…pleading for help on their knees.

Will he roll up his swag and forever be sad

When he reflects where it all begun…

Will he feel full of remorse?

When he unsaddles his horse…

Whistles his dog, and turns his back on the sun.

“See you later cobber”

As he shoulders his clobber,

And heads east to the coast to retire…

But will he make the train,

Or will his mind he change

And turn about and rejoin his mates by the fire.

Yes, whatever happens to an old time drover?

When his light begins to fade…

Whatever happens to an old time drover…

And the life… that he has made.

Darrell B Parker

Weaver of words and emotions

2010.

Dr Newton's Law

Well, here I am again with something more from the depths of the archives.... some very light banter. A long way back I had a few problems with Kidney Stones, I visited the Launceston General a few times over the years,  the following is my memory of one particular patient in my Ward.....sure hope twill cause a smile.  😄

DR. NEWTONS LAW

WELL I TOOK ANOTHER TRIP

TO THE HOTEL ON THE HILL,

IN THE BACK OF AN AMBO I DID TRAVEL

I WAS FEELING RATHER ILL,

YES,I'M BACK IN THE A.& E.

DR. CHAN – HE WAS THE MAN

THE MORE I SAID I WAS IN PAIN

THE LESS HE DID UNDERSTAND.

FINALLY UP TO THE WARDS

THIS TIME IT WAS 6D

I MET UP WITH DR. MONIQUE

I DIDN'T MIND HER LOOKING AFTER ME

WITH VIVIENNE, RACHEL, BARBARA AND CO,

I WAS SURELY IN GOOD HANDS.

THEN DR. NEWTON WAS ADMITTED TO THE WARD

HE WAS DETERMINED TO LEND AN UNSKILLED HAND.

NOW HIS KNOWLEDGE FAR OUTWEIGHED THE STAFF

HE WAS FULL OF DOCTOR STUFF

COME EARLY THURSDAY MORNING THOUGH

WE’D ALL HAD A BLOODY NUFF,

THE NOISE HE MADE WHEN FAST ASLEEP

WOULD CAUSE THE WARD TO SHAKE

SIR JAMES GUY WOULD AWAKE IN FEAR

“PLEASE DEAR LORD – NOT ANOTHER EARTHQUAKE”.

MR CROSSWELL WAS MADE OF TOUGHER STUFF

BUT HE WAS ON HIS BACK,

DR. NEWTON GAVE HIM SOME ADVICE

AND HIS BOWELS FLOWED LIKE WATER FROM A TAP

SO BY NOW THE BANTER BEING TOSSED AROUND

WAS BECOMING RATHER SERIOUS

BUT BETWEEN DR NEWTON AND US PATIENTS

WE WERE ALL QUITE DELIRIOUS

AND OF COURSE THE TIME HAD TO COME

WHEN WE HAD TO SEPARATE,

SIR JAMES BACK TO THE MANOR HOUSE

AND OF COURSE, ME BACK TO THE LAKE

LANCE HE HEADED OFF TO HOBART

TO MAYBE HAVE ONE LAST KICK

AND AS DR.NEWTON WALKED OUT THE DOOR

HE CONTINUED TO OFFER HIS ADVICE TO THE SICK!!

DARRELL B. PARKER

Weaver of words and emotions

23/11/99

Along The Logging Trail

Hi there good people, thanks for visiting my Blog, and thanks to those who have expressed their opinions of my Posts (poems), always good to receive any critique, good, bad, or otherwise, definitely appreciated.
Here follows another from the archives, penned this 20 years back, did not mean for it to sound Political or controversial, but I will understand should you feel it reads this way....please don't hold it against me. The second last verse is probably more to my way of thinking re logging in this country, I am well aware we need timber for various reasons, but the "Tarkine" should be off limits to the harvesting of any trees, and also, the decimation of our wildlife's natural environment should be taken into consideration before any chainsaws are kicked into action.

ALONG THE LOGGING TRAIL

HAVE YOU EVER WALKED THE FORESTS

WHERE THOSE GIANT GHOST GUMS GROW

WHERE WITH ONE CUT FROM A NOISY SWORD

THOSE TITANS ARE LAID LOW

HAVE YOU HEARD THEIR GROANS OF DESPAIR

AS THEY PLUNGE SEVERED TO THE GROUND

HAVE YOU EVER TOUCHED THEIR SAPPY TEARS

AS THEY ARE TRIMMED OF THEIR SURROUNDS.

HAVE YOU EVER WATCHED THE BUSHMEN

AS THEY ATTEMPT TO FILL THEIR QUOTA

CONSERVATION IS NOT THEIR CAUSE

THEY ARE NOT CONCERNED – NOT ONE IOTA

HAVE YOU EVER WATCHED THE SKIDDERS

AS THEY DRAG THOSE LOGS AWAY

AND LOAD THEM ATOP THE JINKERS

FOR THEIR TRIP TO OLD BELL BAY.

YES, OUT ALONG THE LOGGING TRAIL

THERE IS MUCH GRIEF AND PAIN

EACH TIME A TREE HITS THE GROUND

THAT MEANS A LITTLE LESS RAIN

IT MEANS OUR NATIVE WILDLIFE

HAVE TO FIND ANOTHER HOME

THE EFFECTS OF THE LOSS OF OUR TREES

IS FAR-REACHING…..BUT MOSTLY NEVER KNOWN.

CHIP LOGS THEY ARE BEING CALLED

BUT WE ARE ALL QUITE AWARE

THAT THE FORESTS ARE BEING CLEAR FELLED

AND THE GOVERNMENTS DO NOT CARE

GREED HAS TAKEN OVER

WHERE SANITY IT SHOULD PREVAIL

WHY IS THERE NOT MORE CONTROL

OUT ALONG…..THE LOGGING TRAIL.

MINISTERS GET OFF YOUR BACKSIDES

HAVE A LOOK BEFORE YOU SIGN OUR TREES AWAY

GET OUT AND WALK THE FORESTS

LISTEN TO WHAT THE TREES HAVE TO SAY

BY ALL MEANS TAKE THE WEAK ONES

BUT LEAVE THE STRONG STANDING TALL

NO TREES MEANS…..NO FORESTS

TO BE ENJOYED BY ONE AND ALL.

YES OUT ALONG THE LOGGING TRAIL

THERE SHOULD BE MORE CONTROL

IF THE SYSTEM REMAINS AS IT IS

OUR TREES WILL NEVER GROW OLD

SO I SAY WITH MUCH CONVICTION

TO OUR ELECTED HEADS OF STATE

LEAVE THE FORESTS FOR THE PEOPLE…..

BEFORE…..IT’S TOO FLAMIN LATE.

Darrell B Parker

The Bush Poet of Kalangadoo

29/9/00

Desperation

G'day there, sure hope everyone is doing well, seems the present times are to remain with us for a little longer.eh? Cannot understand why all the Premiers are so hesitant with opening the Borders, I think it's about time the handcuffs came off and we were allowed to travel intrastate and help bring the economy back. I am sure the majority of the population understand how to avoid infection by now, just how difficult could it be to remain 6' apart, whether one is in NSW or QLD, or even Tasmania for that matter, a little commonsense is all that is needed.  I would hate to think the Premiers believe we are all nincompoops, no, we are just lay people, not Bureaucrats!! 
Come on Premiers, time to get your act together and "OPEN UP!!

Anyway, enough of my ideological banter...been browsing the archives again and thought this might be a pertinent posting seeing there has been lots of rain throughout the country...hope you enjoy the read. 

 Cheers from Darrell.

DESPERATION

THERE IS A CLOUD HOVERING OVER THIS LAND OF OURS

WHICH WE HOPE WILL BRING US SOME SHOWERS

BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE FOR ALL OUR TOIL

TO GO TO WASTE ON A PARCHED AND HUNGRY SOIL.

IT HAS BEEN SOME TIME SINCE THE CREEKS HAVE FLOWED

SINCE THE FLOWERS BLOOMED AND THE CROPS WERE SOWED

EACH NEW DAY BRINGS THE HOPE OF RAIN

BUT THE HEAT AND DUST JUST INCREASE THE PAIN.

THE AGONY AND THE SUFFERING IS HARD TO TAKE

WE STRUGGLE ON, HOPING IT IS NOT TOO LATE

FOR US TO REAP A CROP THIS YEAR

JUST A SIGN OF RAIN WILL EASE OUR FEARS.

IT IS HARD FOR US TO UNDERSTAND

WHY GOD AND NATURE HAND IN HAND

WOULD TREAT US THEIR SERVANTS IN THIS WAY

AND KEEP US SUFFERING FROM DAY TO DAY.

BUT WE WILL FIGHT THIS DREADED DROUGHT

THAT FOR YEARS HAS TRIED TO FORCE US OUT

AND EACH TIME WE SURVIVE THE PAIN

WE WILL PREPARE TO DO IT…..ALL OVER AGAIN.

HISTORY TELLS US GOD WILL SEND THE RAIN

THE RIVERS WILL FLOW... WITH GRASS O'ER THE PLAIN

THEN THE FIGHT WILL BE OVER FOR THIS LOVE OF OURS

WHEN THE HEAVENS OPEN…..AND WE GET THOSE SHOWERS.

DARRELL B. PARKER

THE BUSH POET OF KALANGADOO

JULY 1986

The Little Aussie Battler

Frank Jarvis was lost for nine days in rugged mountain

country around Mudgeeraba in South East Queensland in the year of 1914.

The following is my version of his fight to survive the elements.

This incident is one of the greatest untold survival stories in Australian Bush Folklore.

The Little Aussie Battler

LITTLE FRANKIE LEFT THE HOUSE TO GO AND FETCH A STRAY

WITH SISTER NANCY BY HIS SIDE THEY WANDERED THROUGH THE DAY,

AS DARKNESS FELL THEY SETTLED DOWN TO EERIE SOUNDS OF NIGHT

ON A LOG THEY FELL ASLEEP, NOT KNOWING OF THEIR PLIGHT.

AIMLESSLY THEY WANDERED THROUGH THE FOOTHILLS AND THE SCRUB

WHILE BACK AT MUDGEERABA THE TOWNIES GATHERED AT THE PUB,

THE LIKELIHOOD OF FINDING THEM SEEMED SO FAR AWAY

AS DAY TURNED INTO NIGHT AND NIGHT TURNED INTO DAY.

FIVE DAYS GONE THE SEARCHERS SAW LITTLE NANCY LYING ON THE GROUND

IN JUBILATION OF THEIR FIND THEY HEADED BACK TO TOWN,

LEAVING LITTLE FRANKIE STILL FIGHTING TO SURVIVE

NO ONE NOT EXPECTING, TO FIND HIM STILL ALIVE.

WILD BERRIES AND TOMATOES, HE FOUND A FEW TO EAT

WHY DID HE NOT REMEMBER TO PUT SHOES UPON HIS FEET,

THE DINGOES BAYING IN THE NIGHT PLACED A TOLL UPON HIS MIND

THE TOWNSFOLK KEPT ON SEARCHING, LITTLE FRANKIE NO ONE COULD FIND.

THE WILDERNESS WAS FRIGHTENING FOR A BOY OF ONLY FOUR

IF ONLY HE COULD FIND HIS HOME AND OPEN UP THE DOOR,

BUT NOWHERE IN THOSE MOUNTAINS COULD HE FIND THE PATH

THAT WOULD LEAD HIM FROM THIS HELL INTO HIS MOTHERS GRASP.

AFTER NINE DAYS IN THE WILD LITTLE FRANKIE MADE IT OUT

ON A RAILWAY TRACK HE HAD LAY HIS HEAD WHEN HE HEARD THEM SHOUT,

“HE’S ALIVE!” THEY CRIED, “HE’S MADE IT BACK”, THEY TOOK HIM INTO TOWN

THE LITTLE AUSSIE BATTLER AT LAST HE HAD BEEN FOUND.

ON THAT NIGHT A TRAIN WAS DUE ALONG THE RAILROAD TRACK

LITTLE FRANKIE'S STRUGGLE COULD HAVE ENDED WITH HIS NAP,

IF THOSE SEARCHERS HAD NOT TAKEN A SHORTCUT INTO TOWN

FRANKIE MAY HAVE NEVER... MADE ANOTHER SOUND.

FAR INTO THE NIGHT, THEY PARTIED ONE AND ALL

THEY HAD A GOOD REASON, GOD HAD ANSWERED THEIR CALL,

TO GIVE LITTLE FRANKIE THE STRENGTH TO SURVIVE

AND TO SEND THE LITTLE AUSSIE BATTLER, BACK HOME TO THEM ALIVE.

DARRELL B. PARKER

THE BUSH POET OF KALANGADOO

1996

A Pyramid of Memories

Hi there friends, been scouring the archives and came across the following poem, something I was quite proud of at the time of writing. 

I remember sitting out on my verandah taking in the serenity of Kalangadoo Bay and anticipating my next venture trolling the lake to do battle with a king brownie, but the ambience quickly had me reminiscing days gone bye and what the future might hold...hence this poem did unfold.....hope you like. 

A PYRAMID OF MEMORIES

A MAN TAKES TIME TO REMINISCE

AS HIS LIGHT BEGINS TO FADE

AS HIS MEMORIES CAST THEIR SHADOW

ACROSS THE LIFE THAT HE HAS MADE

WILL HIS FAILURES CAUSE HIM TO REGRET

OR WILL HE BE SATISFIED

THAT WHAT HE HAS ATTAINED IN LIFE

WILL ENRICH THOSE HE LEAVES BEHIND.

MANY HIGHWAYS HE DID WANDER

SEARCHING FOR HIS DESTINY

FROM THE SILENCE OF THE HEARTLAND

TO THE CITIES BY THE SEA

THE SOULS HE TOUCHED ALONG THE WAY

BECAME A LIBRARY IN HIS MIND

A PYRAMID OF MEMORIES

TO CALL ON ANY TIME.

BUT NOW THE TIME IT HAS COME

FOR HIM TO JOURNEY ON

THERE IS NO NEED TO CRY FOR HIM

HE WOULD PREFER A SONG

HE HAS ONLY ONE MORE BRIDGE TO CROSS

TO REACH THE WINDOW IN THE SKY

TAKING WITH HIM... HIS PYRAMID OF MEMORIES

TO REMEMBER US ALL BY.

Darrell B. Parker

Weaver of words and emotions

Cockies In Your Coffee

G'day once again, I thought tonight might be a good time for some lighthearted banter...this is not meant to be detrimental to anyone or anywhere, it is quite coincidental that my friends reside in Bli Bli...............enjoy  😉😉

COCKIES IN YOUR COFFEE

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN TO BLI BLI

WHERE THOSE GIANT COCKIES GROW,

WELL, I ONCE WENT TO BLI BLI

AND YOU’D NEVER WANT TO KNOW,

I WAS SITTING IN A LOCAL CAFE

WITH A CAPPUCCINO TO MY LIPS,

WHEN A COCKIE EMERGED FROM THE FROTH.....

AND JUMPED ONTO MY FISH AND CHIPS.

NOW THIS COCKIE WAS OF AWESOME SIZE

AND I KNOW IT MUST SOUND COARSE,

BUT I COULD SEE THE UGLY BEAST

SWIMMING IN THE TARTARE SAUCE,

AND CRAWLING WITH A STEALTHY SKILL

IT MANOEUVRED AROUND THE PLATE

I LOST SIGHT OF IT FOR JUST A SEC.....

THEN IT APPEARED AGAIN AND BEGAN …TO REGURGITATE

FROM SIDE TO SIDE AMONG MY FOOD

THIS CUSTODIAN OF THE KITCHEN MADE ITS WAY,

I MARVELED AT ITS TENACITY,

AS IT KEPT A SQUADRON OF BLOW FLIES AT BAY,

DISGUSTED …I CALLED ACROSS THE WAITRESS

IN ORDER TO SEE WHAT COULD BE DONE,

SHE PULLED FROM UNDERNEATH HER VEST.....

THE DEADLY COCKIE GUN.....

IT IS SAID THE COCKIES IN BLI BLI

ARE THE BIGGEST IN THE STATE,

BUT UP AGAINST A COCKIE GUN

THEIR SIZE JUST DOESN’T RATE,

SO AS THE WAITRESS SHE TOOK DEADLY AIM

THE PATRONS WERE READY TO SAY GOODBYE,

AS THEY WAITED FOR THE FIERY BLAST.....

THAT WOULD BLOW THIS COCKIE RIGHT OUT OF... BLI BLI

TWO SHOTS SHE FIRED INTO THE PLATE

MY FISH AND CHIPS WERE IN NEED OF A RABBI

WHEN THE SMOKE HAD FINALLY CLEARED AWAY

THERE WAS ONE LESS COCKIE IN BLI BLI

THEN THE WAITRESS… SHE SERVED ME UP ANOTHER MEAL

AND AS I PUT THE CAPPUCCINO TO MY LIPS..... 

DID NOT NOTICE THE MOTHER OF ALL COCKIES

JUMP BACK ONTO....MY FISH AND CHIPS.

DARRELL B. PARKER

WEAVER OF WORDS AND EMOTIONS