Long Fairbrother Poems
Long Fairbrother Poems. Below are the most popular long Fairbrother by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fairbrother poems by poem length and keyword.
Love of Slim At Kempsey
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
The music of Slim Dusty and his bush verse
Played night and day at the Kempsey Muster
A crowd of country music fans in their hundreds
Enjoyed the Slim Dusty memorial weekend
The singers gave justice to Slims songs
Many were well known country artists
Others home grown and new to the game
Gave their all for the love of this great man
Lights on the hill most popular was sung a hundred times
With The Rain Tumbles Down in July a close second
Camooweal, Gidgy Coal the Indian Pacific, Road Train Blues
300 horses, Waltz Sing Matilda and the Pub with No Beer
When the Winter Winds blow the Currawongs Come down
And the classic Pub with no Beer and have a beer with Duncan
Road Train Blues, Old Time Country Halls Slim sang them all
He looked Forward and he Looked Back, living his Natural High
For the words in his songs resonate with the old and young
Bringing the bush and the outback closer to city people
Relive the devastating drought, fires, teeming rain and floods
The characters and hero’s he bought to life in his verse
The bush poets write about things they see around them
The Man from Snowy River or Clancy of the Overflow
The Aboriginal stockmen where legends were born
All put to music and sung by Slim Dusty and his country band
Slim and his family travelled throughout this great land
Bringing their music to the cities the outback and the bush
For his music and the stories of the past and present
He sang in a unique way that everyone could understand.
Everyone there vowed to return to the muster
For the legend of Slim and his songs will never end
We will play and sing the songs that he made great
Until we meet again at the Kempsey Muster
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
BLUE DAYS
….
A raw blue sapphire, cut to enhance the yellow spectrum
The sounds of trouble in the pink saloon down town
The scent of red roses wafted down the path to the mess
No sweets tonight, I can’t handle the taste of green jelly
Dark skies above feels like the black clouds are about to burst
Raw, yellow, sounds, pink, scent, red, taste, green, feels, black
Raw yellow cake from Rum Jungle
The sound of running water colored pink from acid
The smell so bad turns your face red from fumes
And the taste of the green oxide lingers in the air
Feels like things are not right with the mine in the eerie black ness
Tomorrow will be fine as the day unfolds with a cloudless sky, just another blue day
Kevin l Fairbrother 5/11/2015
FROSTY
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
A Stock Horse… High Country Bred
Dark Palomino with white patches on his body and head
A solid well-muscled body and sturdy big boned legs
With strong shoulders and a massive muscled rear end
…
Sure footed FROSTY would go anywhere
A gallop on the marshes through creeks and river beds
Up and down steep and rocky hills, through thick bush and scrub
Nothing would impede his progress, he never gave up
…
He would carry heavy loads of Kangaroo and Deer
A friend to so many on the regular weekend hunt
Not fazed, never flinch when the guns went off
Work all day in the bush from dawn to dusk
…
Working with the dogs to gather sheep from the hills and plains
His rider sitting comfortable and on a loose rein
Picking his way around the fallen timber and rocky scree
Nothing would stop him no need of spur or whip
Stock horse competitions he would excel and prove his worth
Trail riding he was hard to beat in manners and stamina
DUSTY was loved by all who had the chance to meet him
His reputation admired and known by country and city people alike
…
But on a cold windy winters, morning, FROSTY was startled
Rising from the rough and ragged ground where he lay
His leg got caught, snapped his shoulder, struggling to get up
A sad time next morning when he was found, there was no hope
…
FROSTY was put down
Buried on the wind swept plains where he was born
And close to another legend of the High Country
His Mom
…
Such a legend FROSTY was gone before his time
But he will be remembered for his nature and strength
For on the high country his memory lives amongst so many
And round the camp fires FROSTY story will be told
Penned on the 23/01/15
Sugar Cane Blues
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
Sugar, Sugar it’s everywhere
From Proserpine to Cairns
The green fields of cane
Are in your face all the time
On the road I’m driving
The cane swaying on both sides
Radio blaring a Muslim invasion
Who cares when there is sugar everywhere
I’m feeling high with sugar on my mind
But deep down I feel no shame
I’m riding high there is no pain
That sweet smell I take it in again and again
A change of scenery is what I need
A different choice to smell and see
Maybe then I can forget I have
The sugar cane blues
Sugar, Sugar oh so sweet
Please give me some relief
Let it end this feeling
So full of sweetness
Need to come down off this high
Into the mountains I think I’ll go
Change the scenery breathe some fresh air
To take away my sugar cane blues
Hearts and Minds
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
They come, they go, like the sands of time
Washing our soul, disturbing our mind
Relentless, provoking, rocking our boat
Like the ocean tide that ebbs and flows
Days go by, too busy to think our past
Days are full on and time is short
Our years mount seven score or more
Only time we have left will even the score
Thoughts of the past are hard to recall
But those around you prompt your thinking
We may be growing older but none the wiser
As the fog builds and clouds our minds
But some light gets through to our darkened thoughts
And in quite times, we reflect of pain and suffering
When our soul and heart were scarred so deeply
Then smothered by enlightened happiness of life
Those memories of your forgotten past, hard to recall
Etched deep and jumbled in a cluttered mind
But when they present through the fog and mist
Your heart and soul like a volcano awakens
Your thoughts and memories live within others
Your loved ones, your family and friends
They never die they are always passed on
To live within someone’s heart and mind
ALONE
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
All alone, just me and the surrounding landscape
My mind fills with an avalanche of the past, the present and the future
Such a jumble of thoughts in my head, hard to separate the good and the bad
Nor find the means to lesson this feeling of loneliness
Like a computer that searches and crunches numbers
My brain is working over-time and heading for an over-load
At the speed of light it looks for and separates the positives and negatives
For there is so much is stored and there is heaps and heaps to untangle
Perhaps a walk in the crisp cool wind swept day
Will clear my head and untangle the thick jungle
Then again it will surely add to what is already in my head
As I walk taking in the sounds and scenery around me
Put pen to paper, get on your keyboard that could be the way
To let your brain and your fingers do the talking
Surely that should decrease the flow of information
But alas, I have to think, there-for, I make worse the situation
There is one way and one way only to ease the dilemma
To slow down the process and to get rid of lonely thoughts
Have a stiff drink, play soft music and lay on the bed
Snuggle down, close your eyes and sleep with your loneliness
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
Living the Dream
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
From Hobart to Cape York from Perth to Sydney
And all the cities, towns and country in-between
I am visiting places on this Island I’ve never seen
Experiencing the highs and lows and living the dream
East and west of the great divide a picture so different
In the west the landscape so bruised, dry and parched
With the drought lingering and causing so much suffering
People so resolute and tough don’t know the meaning of giving up
East of the divide a picture of greenery as far as the eye can see
Not feeling the hardship of life unlike their cousins on the other side
Here the cities and country towns are vibrant and alive
For the mountains hide the devastation on the western side
Thousands of kilometers and thousands of liters of fuel
Not to mention the thousands of dollars well spent
With my Ute and van I’m able to greet a new day in a new place
So every day is a new adventure called living the dream
So many new and old friends I have met and greeted
Lots of campfires and happy hours under the stars
Filled with stories of travel, adventure and friendship
The memories of which will stay with me fore-ever
So many places I have been, so much I have experienced and seen
The sea of sugar cane from that stretches the eastern coast
The beaches, the forests, the mountains, the flora and fauna
All visited and reached by manmade roads that stretch from coast to coast
The country music musters so enjoyed by so many travelers
The buildings and relics of old so rich in fame and history
The diverse cultures that live on because people care
Are just a small part of living the dream in Australia
I will keep travelling as I follow the ribbon of tar
For every day I wake to something so different
As my life unfolds towards an ending down the track
I’ll sleep with the memories, I’m living the dream.
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