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.
No comments:
Post a Comment