Best Fairbrother Poems
The Cider Gum (Eucalyptus Gunnii)
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
The full Moon ablaze in the night sky
Beams down on the dead and dying Cider Gums
Their ghostly silhouettes, so white and stark
Now just a reminder of the past
…
The Central Plateau, the High Country of Tasmania
Is or was home to these magnificent trees
Now there bleached skeletons tell the story
That the environment in which they flourished has changed
…
Grazed extensively by native and domestic animals
Used by the aboriginals, settlers and trappers
The Cider Gum leaf, was used to make cider
And the sweet scent used to freshen homes
…
Eucalypts Gunnii (Cider Gum) unique to Tasmania
Once so prevalent and used in a variety of ways
Now standing forlorn, dead and slowly dying
Their limbs and branches bleached white by the sun
…
Many attempts have been made to re-introduce the gums
But the changing environment and pressure from the wildlife
Has meant that the Cider Gum is facing a loosing battle
For the seasons have changed, not enough rainfall and hot summers
And the snow no longer on the ground for weeks on end
…
Such a unique and magnificent shade tree, stepped in history
Will soon be a distant memory and extinct
Will be left to the old timers to tell about the Cider Gums
For I have doubts that mother nature can revitalize Eucalyptus Gunnii
RESPECT MOTHER NATURE
By Kevin L Fairbrother
Mother Nature has no boundaries, has no rules
We live within her bosom, for she demands respect
She alone has the power whether you live or die
No one can control her, though some have tried
Mother Nature the mother of this Natural world
A world that we can see, feel, touch and experience every day
Provides us with every- thing we need to live or die
With respect always we must treat her
Unknown where she comes from but she is here to stay
Has been with us from the day the world was born
For if we miss-treat her, prepare for an early grave
For she has the power to create hell on earth, for us all
Forget religion it has no truth, for the gods were not born on that first day
Mother Nature has given us a world where we have evolved to what we are today
For only she has the power that controls the world we live in
And she can undo what ever humans create and say
We all must treat Mother Nature with respect
Think about every-thing you do that may upset her
For Mother Nature created everything her way
To balance the flora and fauna, the atmosphere, the rivers and sea
Created and nurtured all the animals that live to this day
With delicate balance of the planets, the sun and air we breathe
That provides everything we need to live on this earth every day
Respect Mother Nature for otherwise she will make you pay
In death we part the natural world in which we lived
Be we buried or burnt we are still within the bosom of Mother Nature
For composed of carbon we will survive in a different way
So we should thank and respect Mother Nature everyday
A FISHERMANS TALE
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
Blowering Lake in the Snowy’s is the place to be
To catch a Yellowbelly or Silver Perch
Or if you are lucky a Murry Cod or a trout
They all live beneath the cold waters of the lake
I flog the water with spinning rod and lure
Changing frequently my choice of lure
I try to entice a fish to strike…but no luck
At this rate I would be lucky to catch a cold
Along comes a regular fisherman, introduced himself as Wayne
Having any luck old mate he asks, not me mate I have no luck
No bloody fish here I says to Wayne, He says it’s not luck you need
It’s a worm on a hook and pure skill that will get you a fish
He sets up his rod and baits the hooks with wriggly worms from his garden
He casts the line out into the lake and proceeds to make a cup of tea
No sooner had he poured the tea when he had a strike, he set the hook
I’ve got a nice fish on you grab the net be ready to catch him
You lucky old bugger I says to Wayne, no luck involved just pure skill
A 2kg Yellowbelly as fat as mud he will go down well for tea
Not to be outdone I changed my lure and cast it into the lake
On my third cast I spotted the dark shape of a fish following
A strike I yelled as I set the hook and the fish- well he took off
I played him out till he started to tire, fetch the net old mate
This fish is a whopper; I played him out till he went belly up
Wayne rushed over and gently placed the net under the fish
Wow what a fish Wayne said the bugger is twice as big as mine
You were bloody lucky- I reckon I brought you good luck say’s Wayne
No bloody luck involved I say’s to Wayne, old mate
It’s just my good looks and pure skill
Making Hay
by
Kevin Fairbrother
…
Gradually winter fades, spring has begun
The ground will warm up, the grass will grow
The winter rains, the spring sunshine, now for summer
This will make the grass grow and grow
…
The hot days with storms and rain
The grass is getting longer every day
Time to prepare the mower and hay rake
And make sure the baler is in ship shape
…
Plenty of grease in all moving places
The knives sharpened, bolts replaced
Machinery is ready for the harvest
Come December and hot dry weather
…
The disc mower attached to the tractor
Whirs into action to mow down the grass
Cutting the grass close to the ground, lays it flat
In the 10 acre paddock on the river flat
…
The paddock all cut in neat flat rows
Will need lots of sunshine to dry it out
A couple of warm hot days be ready to turn
Once turned another day be ready to bale
…
The baler hooked up begins to thump
As the pick-up feeds in the dry grass
The needle whirs and threads the string
The first bale rolls off the machine
…
Hour after hour the baler spits out bales
Soon the paddock is filled with square bales
The men move in with the flat tray truck
Load the bales with sweat and strength
…
The bales carted and under cover
The hay making machines now quite
The men gather around for a beer and a feed
The hay making done for another year
Big Potato..for limerick contest
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
Old Joe the potato grower
Was beside himself in sorrow
For down at his boots
Was a hole so darn deep
His potato’s now resided in China
A place we call Home
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
The cold westerly winds rolls down the hills and across the plains
The frost on the ground as thick as a man’s hand
The air drawn in chills the body to the bone
This is the Central Plateau, the place we call home
…
Living here you need to be strong and resilient
Prepared to take what- ever Mother Nature brings
Wake to a snow blanket or biting winds and freezing rain
Or just maybe experience a hot sunny day
…
Life is hard for the high country people
Work to be done what-ever the weather
Wood to cut to keep the home fires burning
Feeding out or mustering or maybe a hunt
Keeps meat on the table and the dogs with a full gut
…
We choose to live and work in the high country
For the place is special, gives us a natural high
No place for the hustle and bustle of towns and cities
This place so peaceful, serine and quite
…
A visit to the high country an experience you will never forget
The extremes of weather, the rolling plains and the craggy mountains
The glistening waters of the streams, the rivers and lakes
The majestic Cider Gum, the snow gums and mountain heath
…
For the Central Plateau is like nowhere else on earth
For the dream time of old, the pristine wilderness
The night sky glistening and sparkling so very close
I love the high country, the place I call home
Upon the Shelf
by
Kevin L Fairbrother
I spied it sitting on the shelf
A pretty shape and so smooth
It set my pulses racing
And my eyes bulged in my head
…
I picked it up with gentle touch
And caressed the smooth skin
My fingers explored the bottom
Then ran up to the head
…
I put my face against the skin
Was bowled over by the aroma
So I kissed it on the head
Then bit it on the shoulder
…
The juices flowed I sucked them up
And peeled the skin from the flesh
Caressed the body so round and smooth
Which made more juices flow
…
The flesh so sweet.. oh so sweet
I was drunk with ecstasy
All gone now.. just lingering sweet taste
Which makes me want to
Pick another Orange off the shelf
Inspired just now whilst eating an orange
A GUMMY FISHERMAN
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
The sheltered bay disguised what was to come
Around the headland we hit it head on
Four to five meter waves and breaking on top
And a wind that was building making lots of spray
A man takes many risks for a crayfish on his plate
For the pots needed to be pulled from the deep reef
Then baited with a fresh lot of stinking fish bait
Hoping to lure the wily crayfish into the pot
With the sea boiling the boat cut through the waves
Sending water and spray every which way
The fisherman holding on to keep their feet on deck
As the motors strain to keep a forward motion
The fishermen search for the buoys in the white water
As the rolling sea tosses them about like a cork in a bottle
The buoys know sighted make ready to haul the pots up
Hoping that they contain a few crayfish for their effort
There is no color in the first three pots, they are baited
Then tossed back into the rough and deep water
The last pot pulled and on the deck contains one small cray
Not a keeper, what a bummer, throw him back to grow bigger
With head down low kneeling on the deck
The rotten bait smells so ghastly get up my nose
Dry reaching, pale and feeling quite sick
I heave it up and let it flow over the side
Boy oh boy did I let the sickness flow
Breakfast, dinner and tea all in one go
I heaved it up my false teeth went with it
Over the side and into the boiling sea
Feeling miserable and quite ill, we headed back
To the bay and much calmer water
I thought about my teeth now in the water
Maybe a Gummy shark ate them up?
So now I fish the bay with a toothless mouth
And I target the Gummy Shark, hoping in vain
That one day whilst fishing, I will be lucky
And catch the Gummy that has a toothy smile
The Pebbles (Kunjarra)
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
The Pebbles a sacred site near Tennant Creek
A mass of granite boulders spewed from beneath
Surrounded by wind swept plains of red dirt
A relative of Karlu Karlu/ The Devils Marbles
…
A place of eerie dreamtime long time past
Aboriginal women and girls… Hairy Women
Dancing in the twilight… The Munga Munga
Sacred to Women, ritual rites, Mothering business
…
Sunrise and sunset a changing spectrum
Of red and purple on the Pebbles boulders
Intertwining beams filter and color the surrounds
Creating an experience of dreamtime long ago
…
No place for men, their spirit excluded
Only women and girls meet and greet at the Pebbles
For hidden within the boulders the spirits of old
Awake… eerie creepy moments that interrupt sleep
…
Visit and take away an experience of dreamtime
The Pebbles transport you back in time
Relive the vibrant Munga Munga dance
When the sunset intermingles with the Pebbles
I Had A Dream
by
Kevin L Fairbrother
My paid working life as come to a end
Not rich… Not Poor… On a pension
With a lifetime of memories to recall
I am rich in experience that I will pass on
…
I had a dream that when I retired
I would work less and enjoy life more
But that dream did not become reality
As I am working more and relaxing less
…
Maybe the cause is my management of time
With family and friends taking up my waking hours
Or it may be because I don’t get out of bed till 9am
And half the day has gone and I’m not even dressed
…
There is always something to do, or somewhere to go
And there is never enough hours to do what I’ve set myself
But deep down I don’t mind as it occupies my day
As I just cant recollect where my time was spent
…
The words above I just wrote in the last hour
After cutting and splitting 4 ton of firewood
I felt the need to justify my time by writing this poem
For my new dream is to become a writer of poetry
BURNING DAYLIGHT by Kevin L Fairbrother
Burning Daylight what ever does it mean
Could be about your daily routine
Or the hours you work from daylight to dusk
Maybe it means how you use the daylight hours
For your own satisfaction and well-being
…
To me it’s about crawling out of bed
After a restless night sleep from the heat
As evident from the crumpled and soaked sheets
As I greet the burning sun’s rays that announce the new day
…
Have to face the new day of heat, dust and flies
What-ever the weather there is work to be done
So it’s on with the shorts, t-shirt and wide brimmed hat
And a liberal smothering of sun screen with high UV
…
Gather my pack of bottled water then on my bike with dogs in tow
Down to the long paddock to gather the sheep
Already the shimmering horizon beggar's belief
For the hot dry wind burns the air I’m trying to breathe
…
Burning daylight it’s like the earth is on fire
For it saps my energy, dulls my brain and sweat rolls off
Man and dog must be crazy to be burning daylight in this heat
As the temperature climbs to well above 50 degrees
…
No shade and no relief from the creek that has run dry
With the dogs panting we gather the sheep and lambs
And push on to the homestead and out of the heat dust and flies
For there will be shelter, shade and cool water to drink
…
I sit on the porch the dog at my feet and enjoy a feed and a drink
As the daylight hours fade away to a night sky
But there is no relief for the heat still lingers and burns
I know I will be facing the burning of daylight hours yet again
Time Flies By
By Kevin L Fairbrother
As we grow older, time just seems to fly
We welcome the new day and in no time
Well, we are looking at the night sky
…
We forget to do what we had just done
We can’t do what we used to, but try
We have to watch our diet both day and night
…
A night sleep is always interrupted
As the medication keeps us awake
And the bladder, well mate- it just won’t wait
…
The past we wondered how we coped
Raising a family with a full time job
Now it’s a full time job just remembering
What we need and what someone tells us
…
We have no need of a fancy watch
For it would have no hope, of keeping up
So we spend our time living in the past
To stop the time from speeding up
…
Crowds of people, create too much noise
And driving in traffic brings us no joy
We look for somewhere quite to hide
Spend our time saying sorry, I did not hear
…
The younger generation doesn’t understand
For they, challenge with what would you, know
The past is so different from what is now
So back in your corner, old man
…
Growing old is a race to the grave
A race that we will never win
For medication just keeps us going
As we wait our time in a rocking chair
For time means nothing... It, just flies by
The Pain of Drought
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
The road trains full of emancipated cattle roar by
Heading south to somewhere that is lush and green
For the big dry out west as tightened it’s grip
As the dry westerly winds lay the paddocks bare
--
The cows they roar and moan and stamp their feet
At the struggling calves that lay dying in the dirt and dust
The Kites on high circle the scene of death and dying
As the mothers walk away they dive bomb the carcasses
--
The cattle cluster round the dwindling water holes and shade
Their skeleton clearly visible held together by skin and bone
The heat so intense they endure .. together with the millions of flies
A scene so horrendous you just cant help the tears in your eyes
--
The lean and tall farmer looks over his dying herd of cattle
And wonders why mother nature can be so bloody cruel
I’ve nurtured these cows from birth, they are my pride and joy
And to watch this scene of my dying stock… Mate it hurts
--
To bloody late to shift this lot off, he says out loud
I must end their suffering as quickly as I can
He heads to the Toyota to fetch his gun
Walks back to the herd with a tear and a heavy heart
--
With an anguished look and tears in his eye, he fires his gun
As the last one falls he looks on with pain etched on his brow
I best bury them deeply before the night falls
And heads to the homestead to fetch the machinery
--
As he drives he mumbles to himself the bloody politicians don’t care
And the city folk, well it’s outa sight outa mind with them
They can rest easy in their homes and comfortable beds
Whilst I toss and turn with mind racing of how to survive this devastation.
--
He returns to the macabre scene of blood, bodies and gore
The Kites in their thousands lift off from the bodies of the cattle
He digs a large hole and buries them deeply as night falls
And hopes that he doesn't have to repeat the process with the stock that’s left.
--
The farmer heads home and is greeted by his wife at the door
He sobs in her arms and she says… I’m so sorry but it had to be done
We will look to the new day and hope the drought breaks
Knowing that Mother Nature will always have her way
I’m So Lucky
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
Been working with a mate, building a deck round a pool
40 square plus and made of treated pine timber
Big job for me for I am pushing 70 but me mate
Well he is doing it tough and he is not yet 50
…
He has a cruel inherited affliction and disease
Which makes his life a living breathing hell
Chronic Arthritis and Alzheimer’s combined
Makes him feel like 100, 99% of the time
…
He tries his best to cope and be useful
But he is frustrated and angry all the time
I make allowances and encourage him
Whatever help he chooses is fine with me
…
I sneak glances when I hear swearing and cursing
I know me mate has forgotten what to do
He comes back and asks, what did you want
The poor bugger can’t remember what I said just minutes ago
…
Down the track for me mate will be a living hell
For his future unknown and his life will be cut short
Living with pain and bent nearly double
His days are frustrating to say the least
…
His family and friends they all support him
But there is only so much that anyone can do
I help him by making time to have a yarn
For every bit helps and it will ease his mind
…
He talks of having to depend on everyone
That’s alright mate it helps you stay alive
But what about down the track when I’m bedridden
And my mind has gone and I can’t function
…
I know its hard Mate! But we will cross that bridge later
And when it happens mate fore-sure you won’t be alone
We will rally around you and your family and support you
Meanwhile I suggest you live your life like there is no tomorrow
I’m so lucky
Thinking of Dusty and Singing with Slim
By Kevin Fairbrother, 17th of August 2013
As I travel the roads on the great outback
My mind takes the pictures of what I see
I wave to the travelers that wave to me
And I listen to Slim on my country CD
My mind wanders back to the Gulf travels I’ve been
In Company with Dusty, the girl of my dreams
We would laugh and joke, have a beer or two
Round the campfire, beneath the blazing moon
The family stories would come to light
Each hoping that one, would break the ice
For love was in the air, it was on my mind
Dusty sensed this, and said goodnight
AS I lay in my swag by the fire glow
My mind raced of ways that I could let Dusty know
Of how I felt, what I could say and what I could do
As I need to tell her in my own special way
Like the song of lost love in Camooweal
I’ve missed the chance to tell Dusty my story
For I’m left with heartache and feeling despair
For Dusty had gone and I know not where
So I travel on thinking of Dusty and singing with Slim
As he tells his stories of life in the great outback
For the words in his songs, they ring so true
That life in the bush is not for city people
But Dusty and Slim will forever be with me
Inspiring me to look forward and not back
For the long road ahead, I know not what it brings
But I will be thinking of Dusty and singing with Slim