Anyway, here it is ...
A MESSAGE FROM CLANCY
(c) Shelley Hansen 18/11/16
So you think you’d like to swap me, reckon city life would stop me
in my tracks if I took on an office job of sorts in town?
Well, I’ll say this Banjo – cobber, I’d be nothing but a robber!
If you thought I’d take away your precious ledgers – you’re a clown!
For my life’s been in the saddle with an office space to straddle
from the Cooper to the Coorong where no door requires a lock.
There was no assisted lighting, and no sounds of children fighting –
for the station kids were far too busy mustering the stock!
As you added and subtracted, and with great precision factored
your percentages, while seconds ticked by slowly on the wall,
my routine held rhyme and reason as the earth moved through each season,
and my days were measured simply by the hot sun’s rise and fall.
I have sometimes heard the story that the greedy quest for glory
causes friendships to be broken as the city bullies thrive;
but out here there’s no divisions as we dine on shared provisions
round a campfire, where our mateship keeps us happy – and alive.
As you walk, the crowds are thronging – eyes cast downward – while you’re longing
for the day of your retirement (and you wish it could be soon);
while to me it seems astounding that each night with stars abounding
I could climb a golden staircase that would dance me to the moon!
When I find I can no longer match the energy of stronger
men, I’ll come and look you up – so we can say that we’ve conferred.
But you’ll only have my pity, for I know that in the city
all my memories of droving won’t be shaken – merely stirred!
Gee Shelley, your poetic cogs must be well-oiled at the moment!
