WOULD YOU SAY HELLO TO DAD

[Terry]

WOULD YOU SAY HELLO TO DAD

The girl came shyly up to me, then called me by my name,
and though five years had passed on by she still looked much the same,
as when she’d waved that last goodbye from near her father’s shack,
way out by Eucalyptus, on a lonely outback track.

She’d been a gangling tomboy then, a daughter of this land,
wild as the country where she lived, and gave her dad a hand.
They’d worked a small gold show of his out Yundamindra way,
and there she’d studied school of air, or so she used to say.

Her mum had taken off somewhere and left the girl behind,
she’d only been a toddler then, but neither seemed to mind.
Although a rough old bushman, there’s a tender side to Jim,
who fussed about his daughter, as she meant the world to him.

Old Jim and I had long been mates before I moved away,
to try my luck up north, with hopes I’d earn a better pay.
We’d searched for gold together in the years before I went,
he’d been a tough old fellow, but a truly decent gent.

My train of thought was broken as she now began to speak,
And told me that their lives had changed and things were now quite bleak.
But first she asked about me; was I having any luck,
In finding Eldorado; had that big one yet been struck?

She told me then her dad was crook and on the pension now,
and she’d become a checkout chic, to make ends meet somehow.
Her job was only part time as she had to help her dad,
and though she hoped he’d soon improve, things still were pretty bad.

She then explained the reason why they’d moved back into town,
her father was now paralysed, a stroke had cut him down,
confining him to wheelchairs, little speech and nearly blind.
No wonder she was close to tears, with all that on her mind.

She quickly straightened shoulders, and then looked me in the eye,
determined not to weaken - it just wouldn’t do to cry.
And then she almost whispered, in a voice that seemed so sad,
“I wonder could you spare the time, to say hello to Dad”.

I followed her back to their home out near the edge of town,
a galvanized tin shanty that had all but fallen down.
Nearby there was a garden where some shriveled veggies grew,
and added to the starkness of this quite depressing view.

She stood embarrassed at the door, then beckoned me inside,
forgetting I’m a bushie – there’s no need to stand on pride.
She led me to a dingy room with scarcely any light,
where sitting in a wheelchair, I now saw my old mate’s plight.

His face grotesquely twisted and was paralysed one side,
a shadow of the man with whom I’d wandered far and wide.
I reached out for his good hand; now aware of his sad state,
then I clapped him on the shoulder – “it’s good to see you mate”.

I talked then of the old days and I saw his spirits rise,
his eyes began to sparkle with the talk of dust and flies.
The afternoon passed quickly as we talked of days gone by,
when we had tramped the outback, as we gave the gold a try.

He held onto my hand awhile as I prepared to leave,
it was his way to thank me, for these moments of reprieve.
I’d planned to prospect further north, but left that plan behind,
I couldn’t leave this girl here, with her crippled dad near blind.

I knew I had to help somehow - a somewhat tricky task,
they’re far too proud for handouts, and of course they’d never ask.
I’d find a way around it somehow, starting where they live,
a few days of hard yakka, was the least that I could give.

His daughter walked me to my car and thanked me once again,
I saw her eyes were glistening - life must have been a strain.
I told her that I’d be close by and come to town each week,
and as she shook my hand, a tiny tear rolled down her cheek.

******

© T.E. Piggott April 2011

[Maureen K Clifford]

Beautiful Terry - Your words painted a picture so clear I walked every step right alongside you - thank you

Cheers

Maureen

[Bob Pacey]

God bleeding bloody Bennet Terry when you can bring lump to my throat I know I've read a beauty.


See That's Poetry.


Bob

[Terry]

Thanks Maureen,
Glad you enjoyed it.
This one's a little longer than I usually write, but it was hard to tell the story the way I wanted with less words.
In fact the poem had been hanging around for awhile because something just didn't seem right in the early part of the poem.
so I recently added the 5th stanza and that seemed to connect those first 4 stanza's better with the rest of the poem.
Thanks for commenting.

Terry

[Terry]

G/day Marty,
Thanks for the comment mate.

Cheers Terry

Hi Bob,
Glad you enjoyed it mate, I seem to be in the middle of a run of sad ones at the moment, must try finding something a bit more cheery to write about.

Terry

[warooa]

Great stuff Terry . . . a gem.

Cheers, Marty

[r.magnay]

G'day Terry, another goodun mate!

[manfredvijars]

It's a Pearler, well done ...

[mummsie]

I, like Bob had to hold back a tear [ I lie, a few did escape ] beautifully written, had me right from the start, yes thats real poetry in my opinion. Well done Terry !!


Sue

[Darren]

Sent a tingle down the spine Terry.

You can tell when poetry comes from the heart mate. This one obviously did.

A beautiful piece.

Darren