My apologies ... I don't know the authour of ths one .....G


An Aussie poem

 

The sun was hot already - it was only 8 o'clock,
The ****y took off in his Ute, to go and check his stock.
He drove around the paddocks checking wethers, ewes and lambs,
The float valves in the water troughs, the windmills on the dams.

He stopped and turned a windmill on to fill a water tank,
And saw a ewe down in the dam, a few yards from the bank.
"Typical bloody sheep," he thought, "they've got no common sense,
They won't go through a gateway but they'll jump a bloody fence".

The ewe was stuck down in the mud, he knew without a doubt,
She'd stay there 'til she carked it if he didn't get her out.
But when he reached the water's edge, the startled ewe broke free,
And in her haste to get away, began a swimming spree.

He reckoned once her fleece was wet, the weight would drag her down,
If he didn't rescue her, the stupid sod would drown.
Her style was unimpressive, her survival chances slim,
He saw no other option, he would have to take a swim.

He peeled his shirt and singlet off, his trousers, boots and socks,
And as he couldn't stand wet clothes, he also shed his jocks.
He jumped into the water and away that ****y swam,
He caught up with her somewhere near the middle of the dam.

The ewe was quite evasive, she kept giving him the slip,
He tried to grab her sodden fleece but couldn't get a grip.
At last he got her to the bank and stopped to catch his breath,
She showed him little gratitude for saving her from death.

She took off like a Bondi tram around the other side,
He swore next time he caught that ewe he'd hang her bloody hide.
Then round and round the dam they ran, although he felt quite puffed,

He still thought he could run her down, she must be nearly stuffed.

The local stock rep came along, to pay a call that day,
He knew this bloke was on his own, his wife had gone away.
He didn't really think he'd get fresh scones for morning tea,
But nor was he prepared for what he was about to see.

He rubbed his eyes in disbelief at what came into view,
For running down the catchment came this frantic-looking ewe.
And on her heels in hot pursuit and wearing not a stitch,
The farmer yelling wildly "Come back here, you lousy bitch!"

The stock rep didn't hang around, he took off in his car,
The ****y's reputation has been damaged near and far.
So bear in mind the Work Safe rule when next you check your flocks,
Spot the hazard, assess the risk, and always wear your jocks!

   

Yeah! It is all my own work. Thanks Liz.
I'm loving life just as it is. Not bound to fashion or rules.
Who made those bloody rules anyway?
Foundation, make up, lipstick, blusher, mascara, the right eye shadow to match your handbag, or was it your shoes?
This goes with that at ......... .
And as for those crazy stillettos some women feel compelled to wear because it's the fashion,
I just don't get why they would want to kill their feet and legs, and ultimately the back.
Fashion victim? Not this little white duck. I'm too practical, realistic, down to earth and down right sensible, just like my shoes. Well, patent sensible Hush Puppies, or as I call them, "Quiet dogs".
You can take the girl out of the bush, but you can't take the bush out of the girl.
I'm a duck out of water here in down town Cairns. I just laugh at the wannabees wearing too much of everything to impress the masses. I'm not impessed, but I am amused.
Chris

Thanks Chris,
You have such a way with words. As I can`t wear makeup anyway it suits me down to the ground out camping just love the life wish I could do more of it.
Helena.

And that's not all Bilko.
There are more somewhere here in this gadget.
Writing is what I do, and poetry is a sideline which manifests itself into something someone can relate to.
If you've been entertained, amused or educated, my job here is done.
Stay happy. Cheers Chris