ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

The Old Timer

Copyright I Conner 20/01/07

Across the lonely common room I see you sitting there,
a shrunken ghost of younger days, no family to care.
I see the wrinkled skin that tears with ev’ry careless grip,
the useless hand, the twisted leg; the endless dribbling lip.

I watch you in your silent world as people come and go
and sorrow for the loss of tales that now we’ll never know.
You cannot speak to ask for help, nor tell us how you feel
but underneath the outward wreck, who knows what you conceal?

I’ve seen the well worn hat that sits upon your greying hair;
the moleskins folded in your room you never get to wear.
I’ve seen your battered riding boots that once adorned your feet;
the calloused hands that tell of work in dust, and dirt and heat.

I’d love to sit and hold your hand and talk to you awhile
and let you know that someone cares enough to make you smile.
I’d love to listen to the yarns you’ve gathered through the years;
to hear the stories that have fed your laughter and your tears.

Were you among the drovers who would travel dusty plains,
who slept beneath the canvas in the midst of winter rains;
a cattleman who did it hard, from sunrise through to dusk,
a man who never wasted words – aloof and sometimes brusque?

Perhaps you were a horseman who was known throughout the land
for skill within the saddle, and a gentle, kindly hand.
A man who raced with brumbys over mountainside and plain,
who held his pony steady with the lightest touch of rein.

I wonder if you’d tell of droughts that wither scrub and grass,
of cattle that lay dying on the tracks o’er which you pass,
of waterholes that shrink beneath the harsh relentless sun;
the dying throes of wildlife you must silence with your gun.

Or have you fought the waters of a raging, swirling flood
that left your land beneath a coat of slowly drying mud;
that took away your livelihood – your crops and all your sheep
and forced a change of life so you could try to earn your keep?

Perhaps you travelled outback trails with wagon, kids and wife,
or maybe you could tell us of a lonely swaggies life.
And have you lost a family for whom you’ll always care?
It seems I’ll always wonder as I see you sitting there.

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What goes around, comes around.

Starting off the day with a two hanky job - beautifully written Irene.

Had you posted that before? - it seems vaguely familiar - no matter it is a wonderful poem and sadly so true -

Cheers

Maureen

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To the home of a friend the way is never long

Wonderful Irene & If I remember right you received a very good response to this in the ABC bush poetry comp.

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To be proven wrong is not an embarrassment or indictment on your character, but, merely one of natures learning curves.
David J Delaney. ©

Thanks Maureen
Yes, I posted this back in the early days of the forum - when it first started up.
I'm cheating, as I haven't got around to writing too much just lately and have nothing new to put up. Figure we should all slowly post some of our older poems to build up the archives again!!

HI Dave, Yes, you're right - you must have a good memory!! I won that comp with this poem, and, as it was the first year of the competition, they hadn't split it into two categorys, so first prize was $500!!
I haven't seen that comp advertised lately (could be because I don't live in FNQ!!! ) - is it still running?
I seem to recall you entered it at some stage, and won something, is that right? Their idea of a weekly prize was great, as there were lots of entries (500 the first year, so I'd imagine there were many more the subsequent years) and it gave more people the opportunity to receive due recognition.

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What goes around, comes around.

Hi Irene A wonderfull Poem It brought back many memories that is why I write to tell Of past histories of our lives and your story tells it all

the old battler Bill

G/day Irene,
I've always loved this poem, time you started clearing the decks and finding more tmie to write your gems.

Cheers Terry

Beautifully written as always Irene. Very gentle and caring. I wanna be more like you ...

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The old grey mare, she ain't what she used to be ...

Thanks Bill - it is great to hear the stories our older generation have - and it's people like yourself that put them across so well that keep our history alive!

Thanks Terry - I certainly plan to make some changes in the coming months to give myself time to write more. One more week, and I will be rid of my most time-consuming volunteer role!! Have quit another one already, and have another one or two to go!! Just hoping to keep on the positions I have that involve organising some poetry comps/breakfasts etc. Then I am taking 8 weeks leave without pay in the new year to get my life back, enjoy being a nana, and maybe even consider either part-time work, or a job that doesn't take up so much of my time - then I will be set to get writing!!! Well, that's the plan anyway!!

Thanks Kym, but we already know you have a wonderfully gentle and caring side to you!! Even if you do write about streakers!!!!
Are you coming over to Boyup Brook in February?? You will be able to catch up with Heather and Zondrae (maybe), and Melanie, and Suzie and Neil, and Terry, and Dave, and Corin, and me, and ...................... Just think of the fun we can all have!!

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What goes around, comes around.

I'd love to come over IRene, but the boss (aka hubbie) still hasn't forgotten how I took two weeks off during our busy time in June to go to Canada ... I'll have to be a bit sneaky ...

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The old grey mare, she ain't what she used to be ...

Great stuff, Irene . . I, too remember this one as the (very worthy) winner of the ABC Far North's comp all those years ago. Comp is still going - still as popular too . . I was a finalist last two years (weekly winner) but not yet snagged an overall place, though I did win the peoples choice award this year. It'll kick off again next May I think - either me or Dave J will keep you posted. Look forward to seeing more of your stuff.

Cheers, Marty