Life's good living in your own back yard

[Maureen K Clifford]

Life’s good living in your own back yard



The mercury is rising now and falling leaves stopped falling.
Soft new shoots are emerging, tender green shoots tinged with pink.
The simple truth is summer hides her face around the corner,
and tempts us with sand, surf and sea and wine and beer to drink.

A time for young blades and young maids to head for outback country
where B and S balls are in swing and idiocy reigns
where Utes are doing circle work and red bull dust is swirling
and males and females mingle and play silly circle games.

It’s all good fun – they like a beer or two or wine for pouring
along with bundy rum and coke and loud and noisy bands
the money raised helps charity – the Flying Doctors scoring;
they’re country kids who don’t do drugs and most are station hands.

There are some city dwellers here, escaped from urban cities
partaking of festivities – five hundred miles not far
to travel for a good time where the price of your admission
means you can drink all that you want and then sleep in your car.

Their dress code is unorthodox – quite different, not divine.
White dinner suits, cardboard bow ties, Akubras by the score
red wing boots beneath ball dresses, pants held up with baling twine,
plus hats festooned with sheep ear tags, blue Jackie Howe’s, and more.

Us Aussies are a weird strange mob and passionate we are as well.
We love football and meat pies, kangaroos, old Holden cars,
we’ve now embraced all cultures and have learnt to love their tucker;
we’re bloody good at cricket but please excuse our faux pas.

Maureen Clifford © 09/12

[Dennis N O'Brien]

Well done Maureen.

[Maureen K Clifford]

Thank you - only written from observation you realize not participation

[Heather]

Come on Maureen, let's go paarteee! We wouldn't look out of place would we?

Heather

[Maureen K Clifford]

Well I can do feral pretty well but I think you might be a tad to well dressed Heather