JOE'S MATE - h'work for w/e 14.3.16
Moderator: Shelley Hansen
- Maureen K Clifford
- Posts: 8156
- Joined: Tue Nov 09, 2010 10:31 am
- Location: Ipswich - Paul Pisasale country and home of the Ipswich Poetry Feast
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JOE'S MATE - h'work for w/e 14.3.16
JOE'S MATE ... Maureen Clifford © The #ScribblyBark Poet
They said he was unrideable - a rogue, a killer, brumby bred
and few there gave a thought to trying to see what was in his head;
just avoided the issue - said he should be used to feed the dogs
or bait the pig traps on the run - for they were plagued with black wild hogs.
But in somebody's heart it seemed he held a soft spot . He stayed on,
although the rider he once had was buried deep and now long gone.
He must have been 'bout twenty years of age - his muzzle turning grey.
His eyes were somewhat clouded - a broken -mouthed rangy bay
who stood 'bout fifteen hands or so - now arthritic and slow
although the rumours were that in his day he had a lot of go.
But that was when young Joe would ride him - in his Jacky Howe and jeans,
back when life out here was wonderful and full of hopes and dreams.
That ended when an accident so cruelly one day took his life.
A punctured tyre, a muddy graveled road , a receipe for strife.
They found him in a terrible state, entreated him "Please Mate - hang on
the Flying Doctor's on his way" - Alas his heartbeat wasn't strong.
It faltered, failed - they tried their best - gave CPR and shared their breath
to no avail - he'd passed and gone to the arms of the Angel Death.
And in the paddock stood the bay - his ears pricked forward - in distress,
he whinnied, galloped to the gate, nobody laid his fears at rest.
He pawed the ground, he shook, he sighed, his body broke out in a sweat
that lathered ribs, darkened his hide - not hard to see he was upset.
And when she came to tell the tale, to rub his ears and whiskered nose,
his rough course tongue caressed her cheek and wiped the tears as they arose.
She said - "He'll work if he'll be rid - if not then leave him spend his days
in the home paddock close to me , he'll keep the grass down, let him graze.
He's earned his rest and earned his keep and though you blokes don't understand
I do, his heart is broken now - he's lost his master and his friend.
I'll keep him close, we share a bond, for both of us truly loved Joe
and maybe solace can be found for both of us. I pray it's so".
They said he was unrideable - a rogue, a killer, brumby bred
and few there gave a thought to trying to see what was in his head;
just avoided the issue - said he should be used to feed the dogs
or bait the pig traps on the run - for they were plagued with black wild hogs.
But in somebody's heart it seemed he held a soft spot . He stayed on,
although the rider he once had was buried deep and now long gone.
He must have been 'bout twenty years of age - his muzzle turning grey.
His eyes were somewhat clouded - a broken -mouthed rangy bay
who stood 'bout fifteen hands or so - now arthritic and slow
although the rumours were that in his day he had a lot of go.
But that was when young Joe would ride him - in his Jacky Howe and jeans,
back when life out here was wonderful and full of hopes and dreams.
That ended when an accident so cruelly one day took his life.
A punctured tyre, a muddy graveled road , a receipe for strife.
They found him in a terrible state, entreated him "Please Mate - hang on
the Flying Doctor's on his way" - Alas his heartbeat wasn't strong.
It faltered, failed - they tried their best - gave CPR and shared their breath
to no avail - he'd passed and gone to the arms of the Angel Death.
And in the paddock stood the bay - his ears pricked forward - in distress,
he whinnied, galloped to the gate, nobody laid his fears at rest.
He pawed the ground, he shook, he sighed, his body broke out in a sweat
that lathered ribs, darkened his hide - not hard to see he was upset.
And when she came to tell the tale, to rub his ears and whiskered nose,
his rough course tongue caressed her cheek and wiped the tears as they arose.
She said - "He'll work if he'll be rid - if not then leave him spend his days
in the home paddock close to me , he'll keep the grass down, let him graze.
He's earned his rest and earned his keep and though you blokes don't understand
I do, his heart is broken now - he's lost his master and his friend.
I'll keep him close, we share a bond, for both of us truly loved Joe
and maybe solace can be found for both of us. I pray it's so".
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
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Re: JOE'S MATE - h'work for w/e 14.3.16
A good yarn Maureen. I forgot what a Jackie Howe is, had to look it up again
I wonder if animals really remember and pine ? Sorry , just musing .

I wonder if animals really remember and pine ? Sorry , just musing .

Neville
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
- Maureen K Clifford
- Posts: 8156
- Joined: Tue Nov 09, 2010 10:31 am
- Location: Ipswich - Paul Pisasale country and home of the Ipswich Poetry Feast
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Re: JOE'S MATE - h'work for w/e 14.3.16
Oh they do Neville, they do. My little Elly was really quite depressed when she lost her sister - now she has a new little brother her old spark is back and she is enjoying life again.
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
- Shelley Hansen
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Re: JOE'S MATE - h'work for w/e 14.3.16
A really good story Maureen, Jackie Howe and all!!
The prompts are a challenge for me this week - haven't come up with anything yet
Cheers, Shelley
The prompts are a challenge for me this week - haven't come up with anything yet

Cheers, Shelley
Shelley Hansen
Lady of Lines
http://www.shelleyhansen.com
"Look fer yer profits in the 'earts o' friends,
fer 'atin' never paid no dividends."
(CJ Dennis "The Mooch o' Life")
Lady of Lines
http://www.shelleyhansen.com
"Look fer yer profits in the 'earts o' friends,
fer 'atin' never paid no dividends."
(CJ Dennis "The Mooch o' Life")
- Catherine Lee
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- Location: Thailand
Re: JOE'S MATE - h'work for w/e 14.3.16
A sad but good story Maureen...and I agree, animals most definitely pine!
- David Campbell
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Re: JOE'S MATE - h'work for w/e 14.3.16
What Shelley said, Maureen!
Cheers
David
Cheers
David
- alongtimegone
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Re: JOE'S MATE - h'work for w/e 14.3.16
Yes me too Maureen. You got to me with that story. Looking for the tissues.
Wazza
Wazza
- Maureen K Clifford
- Posts: 8156
- Joined: Tue Nov 09, 2010 10:31 am
- Location: Ipswich - Paul Pisasale country and home of the Ipswich Poetry Feast
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Re: JOE'S MATE - h'work for w/e 14.3.16
Aaaaw - thanks everyone - it was a bit of a tear jerker 

Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.