ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

This is the other one that was awarded at the Grenfell comp, it got a highly commended back in 2009. I don't think I have ever posted it before. It's funny looking back at them I realise that I used capital letters to start every line and the punctuation (particularly on this one) was practically non-existent. I haven't changed anything else except those two things to make them a little easier to read, even though the temptation was there to 'fix' them.

Spud
Leonie Parker © 2009

His name was really Murphy but we mostly called him Spud
a dinki-di Australian with Irish in the blood.
He never had a proper job at least not that I knew
but there was hardly anything that Murphy couldn’t do.

One day he fixed my car for me when it broke down and died.
He wouldn’t take a cent for it no matter how I tried
to offer him a payment, he said all it cost was time
even though his brand new shirt was streaked with oil and grime.

He helped when moving houses, carried furniture all day.
He never grumbled, just got on, ‘cause that was Murphy’s way.
If anything was broken he could fix it just like new
a real old fashioned handy man, a champ with nails and glue.

Spud wasn’t much to look at just a skinny lanky bloke
but he could outwork twenty men and still find time to joke.
When work was done he’d take a break and down a drink or two.
I’ll say one thing for Murphy he sure liked his Aussie brew.

Sometimes he drank too much of it, he would admit to that
but Murphy was a cheerful drunk not given to combat.
The worst that ever happened even though he was a lush
was salty language bad enough to make a sailor blush.

Some people called him wasted space no job no prospects there.
They overlooked his character a good bloke fair and square.
They should have looked more deeply, it was their loss in the end.
I’m simply glad I knew him; for a while Spud was my friend.

G'day Leonie,

Isn't is woderful when we meet real people. You have painted a great portrait of your friend. There are rare people we come across our life that are the epitome of Christianity in action. They may never see the inside of a church or even believe in God, but they are always there when needed, and help out without expecting even a 'thank you'.

On another track (just for a minute); I stayed at a rural B&B called 'Spud' Murphy's last Sunday. Great country hospitality.
I'd love to know when the building went up. It looked like it had been designed to be a 'coach' inn. The front of the building was right on the footpath of the main street of Crookwell, where as the back area was spaceous and there would have been plenty of room for a coach and horses.

Thank you Marty,

I was curious as to how old the building was. I respect the people who don't just wonder, (like me) and go out and dig up the history of places. Thanks again.

Really enjoyed the poem and the character you portrayed Leonie.

Heather

G/day Leonie,
Another good one of yours, mind you I have always enjoyed your poems,

Terry