ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

An old one of mine I spruced up


THELMA AND LOUISE


I wanted sheep for my garden. Oh it’s just a silly whim
but I really miss my woollies now I'm no longer farming
I would watch them from the window as they grazed, I'd watch for hours
and to me they were as beautiful as any garden flowers.
Most of them I had given names, another female folly
one that my partner seemed to think was anything but jolly
but over time they came to know the names that I'd bestowed
and they'd follow me most anywhere I went along the road.

Girlie was my favorite ewe; by nature she was sweet,
Midnight was her small black lamb who frisked around her feet
and Bones he was an old bloke, battered, old and thin
with lousy wool - not enough meat to make a stew of him.
Hornless , well not really but he'd only one not two
he lost one horn when involved in a senseless sheepish blue
but he was old Bones closest mate, two old wether s both scrawny
one had only one horn and the other wasn't horny.

Hitler was the overseer, the big bad boss of the flock
always the first one at the corn, and always quick to knock
another sheep out of the way if his food they sought to plunder
and often times he'd flatten them..just knock their legs from under.
Harley was a fat boy and Fat Boy he was called
but then I thought that it was not a nice thing to be told.
Mental damage perhaps inflicted, who knows what harm is done
so I renamed him Harley, he had grunt and he could run.

Boadicea was a sweetheart although ugly as sin
she’d lost both ears to cancer had hips like a violin.
But she was a good Mother, and always bred big lambs,
and her bearing it was regal. I am a Queen – that's what I am.
Oliver James and Emma Louise, my little Wiggles and Bob
were orphan lambs I raised myself and it was quite a job.
For feeding four lambs all at once, took a technique hard to beat,
a bottle in each hand, one 'tween the knees, one 'tween the feet.

But my woollies there were many and my 'garden' there was huge
which it isn't in suburbia, so I must carefully choose
the breed and size I'm getting and I guess that isn't all
for there's the worry of the shearing, and the micron count of wool.
Still I have found a solution, and it will just have to do.
Oh I know you'll laugh and wonder - what is she thinking? I would to.
But I saw two sheep, identical, both listed on E bay
and the bloke said he'd deliver, so I ordered right away.

So now they stand in sweet repose within my garden walls
and I must say that they are really no trouble at all.
I've called them Thelma and Louise for they have traveled far
and made the journey here in the back of this blokes car.
I've cornered the wool market for the kind of wool they grow.
They grow steel wool which every housewife has I'm sure you know.
The tensile strength is good but the crimping is not fine.
I wouldn't call the colour bright it’s not an AAA line.

But never mind, the price was right, and they don't eat a lot.
The dogs don't want to work them, they don't seem to care a jot.
My corrugated iron woollies are both tethered to a post
“I've got two sheep in my garden now” I very proudly boast.


Maureen Clifford ©

Loved the tale of the woollies Maureen. Goes to show sheep aren't all the same.

Heather