LOVE BITES
Posted: Sat Jul 13, 2013 10:45 pm
LOVE BITES
Maureen Clifford © The Scribbly Bark Poet
He leant against the slip rails in his faded flanno shirt
with his sweat stained hat jammed down upon his head.
His boots were worn and dusty, like the ground on which he stood
and his two dogs lay beneath the old truck bed.
His blue eyes sunk in shadows from the wrinkled skin around them,
and the furrows on his face no plough had drawn.
White stubble on his cheeks and head told he was getting older
and the skin upon his hands was scarred and torn.
“I've been bitten by the bugger standing there” he quietly told me
“and I don't think that it was a bite of love.
I'll let him get away with it this time, but not tomorrow
for tomorrow there will be more push than shove.
He’s young and full of mettle and he hasn't yet been broken.
Never felt the metal bit or leather rein.
So we'll start off in the morning, and he's going to feel the love.
Eventually it will sink into his brain.
We'll take it nice and slowly, there no need for rush or hurry
for I figure I've got all the time God sent.
And it pays to treat them nicely, the reward is yours to cherish
and it's worth the time, a proper recompense.
My old mare’s nearly twenty and this colt's the last she dropped,
and once he's used to saddle and to bit,
Old Sal can take it easy and this bloke will do the work.
We've just got to make the pieces mesh and fit.”
You could see by looking at him, he's a bushman through and through
there 's a nonchalance about him that is real
and no doubt he'd break the colt in with the minimum of fuss
and I bet his heart the young bay colt will steal
When you're out there in the long yard with your dog your only mate
and your horse a friend reliable and strong.
Then the time you've spent establishing the bond of lasting friendship,
is a bond you know will never see you wrong.
He leant against the slip rails in his faded flanno shirt,
with his sweat stained hat jammed down upon his head.
I wished the old horse whisperer good luck for tomorrow
and he smiled and said “I ain't been beaten yet”
Maureen Clifford © The Scribbly Bark Poet
He leant against the slip rails in his faded flanno shirt
with his sweat stained hat jammed down upon his head.
His boots were worn and dusty, like the ground on which he stood
and his two dogs lay beneath the old truck bed.
His blue eyes sunk in shadows from the wrinkled skin around them,
and the furrows on his face no plough had drawn.
White stubble on his cheeks and head told he was getting older
and the skin upon his hands was scarred and torn.
“I've been bitten by the bugger standing there” he quietly told me
“and I don't think that it was a bite of love.
I'll let him get away with it this time, but not tomorrow
for tomorrow there will be more push than shove.
He’s young and full of mettle and he hasn't yet been broken.
Never felt the metal bit or leather rein.
So we'll start off in the morning, and he's going to feel the love.
Eventually it will sink into his brain.
We'll take it nice and slowly, there no need for rush or hurry
for I figure I've got all the time God sent.
And it pays to treat them nicely, the reward is yours to cherish
and it's worth the time, a proper recompense.
My old mare’s nearly twenty and this colt's the last she dropped,
and once he's used to saddle and to bit,
Old Sal can take it easy and this bloke will do the work.
We've just got to make the pieces mesh and fit.”
You could see by looking at him, he's a bushman through and through
there 's a nonchalance about him that is real
and no doubt he'd break the colt in with the minimum of fuss
and I bet his heart the young bay colt will steal
When you're out there in the long yard with your dog your only mate
and your horse a friend reliable and strong.
Then the time you've spent establishing the bond of lasting friendship,
is a bond you know will never see you wrong.
He leant against the slip rails in his faded flanno shirt,
with his sweat stained hat jammed down upon his head.
I wished the old horse whisperer good luck for tomorrow
and he smiled and said “I ain't been beaten yet”