ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

Found it

The lashing winds and driving rain pounded us about
we never really ever had a chance.
The heavens opened on that day like never seen before
so we would have to play its frantic dance.

The chainsaws roar it echoed through the mangroves thicken coils
all night we'd struggled with no rest or sleep.
The bridge we'd cut from timbers that had fallen in the creek
to ford the river crossing running deep.

We should have seen the signs as we set off on our trek
the lowering clouds in skies of darkened green.
But sometimes a man just has to do the things he has to do
the rhyme and reason simply can't be seen

Then suddenly we broke through upon the spume flecked shores
and the horrors of the night we just forgot.
Our gear was primed and ready and our spirits on the rise
for at last we had found Wazza's secret spot.


Bob Pacey (c)

An heroic tale Bob

Ssshh - next thing you'll be telling us all the fish are biting and a bloody horde will descend there - Wazza won't be pleased.

I tramped that sandy track right alongside you Bob, it felt like the Kokoda trail - the relief when you found the beach was palpable

Good use made of the prompts Bob.

Yes, Bob, I can relate too. I tramped many a "hairy" track as a kid, trailing behind my Dad as we explored the routes to the best fishing spots! It was always worth it, though

Cheers, Shelley

Well done Bob - you painted the picture really well so I didn't expect that last line!

Neither did I Catherine. What a buggar ... now I'll have to find another spot X. I reckon Bob will be taking every Tom Dick and Harriette to it now. But it does prove one thing ... neither fire nor flood nor storm stops a fisherman from having his day on the water. Good poem Bob.
Wazza