Yes Andrea
Been there behind the herd,
in the choking bloody dust,
and the cow pats are falling,
with just a trace of rust,
go to sleep and then i'm falling,
drag by the foot i must,
but wriggle out-of riding boot,
lastic sides just wont be cussed,
orright...
Don Johnson
Russell Sivey
Contest Name Good Luck Meal
Aussie Drover’s tucker
Build your fire upwind of the billy,
If you want it to more than shepherd boil,
Thick slabs of Corn meat n damper, (camp oven bread)
with a drop of tomato sauce,
Or corn meat fritters fried on the coals,
In kidney fat of course,
A billy full of Bushels tea,
Just sitting on a log,
And banana fried well, fritters,
Washed down with some tea or grog,
Sometimes .
On New year’s days a droving .
BERSHEBA BATTLE W.W.1
Horses sensed the coming battle,
Heard sabres rattling to be free.
Fed a nose bag of oats, and the rattle,
Of bayonets on the rifles, old Brumby
Off they are now, at a good trot.
Lining up for the Turks to see,
Held in check bridles curbed, or not,
Cantered, galloped now recklessly.
Galloping over the open ground
Yelling cursing so merrily
In amongst the Turks they bound
Slashing shooting with such bravery.
So the Turkish trench is now taken
Old horse got a drink this you see
Droving job with prisoners a making
Charge of the light brigade with me
Don Johnson
Oats for strength and spirit with a horse,
do you ride well enough to try it...
Nelly my mum was 87 on June -7th -11
her Writings at ...
http://www.scullywag.com/kokoda1942stoush/
My sweet little momma still lives in her house. independently.
ELLEN MAY JOHNSON. (Beau Brummell is her great Uncle)
Yes Ellen Brummell was her name, our good sweet Mother dear .
We wouldn`t trade this girl so game, I`ll surely make that clear.
When droving sheep with her we went, back in the early fifties.
She drove the truck wherever sent, and set up camp so swiftly .
She fed the mob and kept us neat, and educated too.
She always was so good and sweet, of mother this is true.
She always gave us of her best, waited on us hand and foot.
With such a mother we were blessed, these words I`ve poorly put.
If ever with her down you set, She`ll fill your plate my friend.
The fastest meal you`ll ever get, If not your arm she`ll bend.
How she ever put up with our mob, watched over us with care.
Only mother could just do the job, of this of course I swear.
So when you see her run about, too busy to sit down.
Just you she waits on have no doubt, or some stranger from the town.
Don JohnsonConstance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~
Contest Name 'Mother'
Who
They’d say “who made you a man, young lad,”
It was my hard old father, bad,
He stood me up, and made me fight,
He taught straight left, knock down right.
And I was undefeated.
To always rise,
if you’re knocked down.
Attack, attack until you’ve won.
Though I’m still my mother’s son.
His words with me abiding.
To be a man at ten years old,
Work for a living, good as gold,
At droving, I was good I’m told,
horseman, wild horses, riding.
Don Johnson 11-jul-11
"The Right Tme" contest
Sponsored by: Michael J. Falotico
Sky so blue
Ah the sky was so blue,
we looked an we knew,
The rain was never about.
We never had rain,
For three years again,
Perhaps there’s another drought.
The ground cracks like a curse,
In the black soil it’s worse,
With no blades of the grass,
Trees chewed on alas,
Death, the result of no rain.
Eternity passes, dead grass an molasses,
We will have to send them a droving,
Down the long paddock route,
Any Tucker about?
Send her down Huey we’re praying.
Sky was blue for Francines contest 28-june-11
Droving Carolyn,
You could always come a droving,
on the stock route we'd be roving,
sleep neath the stars,
an rough it on the track.
Where the Dingoes howl at midnight,
and the Sand Goannas fight with Brown Snakes,
and the air is sweet as honey,
but there isn't any money,
and you wash in rivers,
sometimes, way outback.
Riding in a Poley saddle,
Slowing back the cattle,
To get a feed of Flinders grass so sweet,
Just a walking leading me horse,
Chomping Damper corn meat an sauce,
Yes me Quartpot boiled of course ,
An I’m drinking some black tea,
Not too bloody sugary.
The trucking yards are waiting,
Two days away, let em go,
in the long paddock tonight,…(stock route)
Tomorrow we will muster,
watch the brown horse, watch him buster,
or he’ll drop you in the long grass,
and you won’t bloody like?
Don Johnson 19-june-11
So I look back for 60 years to my old bay horse star...
Hard mouthed, a galloper just the thing,
at 5 what speed and power....
My chestnut pony stallion was a pig rooter with the best,...
Got dumped when I relaxed a bit, to ride him was my test....
Bronco Don loved a spirited horse he said ...
He taught me riding some...
Don't let em bloody drop their head ,...
hang on, with the horse be one!...
You feed a horse some chaff and oats ...
Its spirit lifts with power...
City folk say don't be a goat ...
Coil springs the pigroot hour....
Dons droving horses always got a feed...
Of chaff and oats for strength ...
Horses ridden every day would need...
quart of oats, strong horses meant....
Try it if you ride very well.....Don Johnson..
So you would saddle this springy horse and take it for a lead at the canter,
it would buck with the saddle and get the hoops out of it for the days work.
Then you would tighten the girth strap and mount a lively horse.
Never underestimate a lively horse.....Don Johnson :)
http://www.scullywag.com/kokoda1942stoush/
I drove the demons 'cross the land
By their side I rode each day
Each night I fed them by the hand
And cracked the stock whip each command
I drove the demons far away
One grinned and sung a lustful song
One stood conceited, pride and all
Each night I fed them, growing strong
Beneath my hand where they belong
I drove the demons, under thrall
One cowered like beaten hound
One sneared in anger at the weak
Each night I fed them from my crown
Which, like a halo, they surround
I drove the demons like a sheik
Amidst a ponderous, solemn drove
I speak of monsters I compel
Each night I fed my demons well
And mustered through the forest grove
The demons that I thought I drove
Are droving me inside my cell
3-3-5-7-7-1
Christmas shop..Till you drop..
Every which way but loose..
For some rawhide, Wishbone fried..
Gil Favor big on flavor..
Some!
Jo se Wells…Eastwood Tales..
As I knew he would..
Clint Eastwood, did very good..
Being so well on his…way..
Act!
Cattle drive…Eastwood drove..
From Rawhide he came..
Droving them doggies rolling..
Improving his western…game..
Bang!
Lee Van Cleef…Just beneath..
The Clint Eastwood leaf..
Did some neat trick in Clint’s flicks..
For just a few dollars…more..
Sing!
Spaghetti…Confetti..
Italian a..
A very long shot movies we got..
Producers had little hope..
Yang!
But did soap…they did rope..
Block busted some dopes..
Mean machine like Steve McQueen..
One Eastwood movie with Sheen..
Yen!
One big star…Clint you're made..
Riding in your cade..
Now it is you who controls..
Fans seek your movies in…rows..
End!
11-3 09 johnmosesfreeman
MEMORIES
She stands on the verandah,
looking out across the plains,
A whirlwind of dust rises,
no sign of any rains.
Her boys are all out droving,
she is home here on her own.
Her thoughts begin to wander,
to when this house was first
her home.
She was young and so in love,
with her cattle droving man.
They made a life together,
in this Godforsaken land.
They raised their boys,
all four of them.
to be hard working men.
When drought set in and
times were hard,
they battled through again.
It's been ten years without him,
but her pain is yesterday.
She grieves alone and silently
still talks to him each day,
She treasures all her photographs,
of her babies and her man.
she has bunnyrugs and memories,
of their lives and all their plans.
She peers out through the heat haze,
her boys are riding in.
All hot,bone tired and dusty,
her face spreads to a grin.
She is so proud and thankful,
of the life she has been given,
Her home,her boys,her memories,
her love,and country living.
Shirley 2009