The sun was hot already - it was only 8 o'clock The Farmer took off in his Ute, to go and check his stock. He drove around the paddocks checking wethers, ewes and lambs, The float valves in the water troughs, the windmills on the dams.
He stopped and turned a windmill on to fill a water tank And saw a ewe down in the dam, a few yards from the bank. "Typical bloody sheep," he thought, "they've got no common sense, "They won't go through a gateway but they'll jump a bloody fence."
The ewe was stuck down in the mud, he knew without a doubt She'd stay there 'til she carked it if he didn't get her out. But when he reached the water's edge, the startled ewe broke free And in her haste to get away, began a swimming spree.
He reckoned once her fleece was wet, the weight would drag her down If he didn't rescue her, the stupid sod would drown. Her style was unimpressive, her survival chances slim He saw no other option, he would have to take a swim.
He peeled his shirt and singlet off, his trousers, boots and socks And as he couldn't stand wet clothes, he also shed his jocks. He jumped into the water and away that ****y swam He caught up with her, somewhere near the middle of the dam
The ewe was quite evasive, she kept giving him the slip He tried to grab her sodden fleece but couldn't get a grip. At last he got her to the bank and stopped to catch his breath She showed him little gratitude for saving her from death.
She took off like a Bondi tram around the other side He swore next time he caught that ewe he'd hang her bloody hide. Then round and round the dam they ran, although he felt quite puffed He still thought he could run her down, she must be nearly stuffed.
The local stock rep came along, to pay a call that day. He knew this bloke was on his own, his wife had gone away He didn't really think he'd get fresh scones for morning tea But nor was he prepared for what he was about to see.
He rubbed his eyes in disbelief at what came into view For running down the catchment came this frantic-looking ewe. And on her heels in hot pursuit and wearing not a stitch The farmer yelling wildly "Come back here, you lousy bitch!"
The stock rep didn't hang around, he took off in his car The Farmer's reputation has been damaged near and far So bear in mind the Work Safe rule when next you check your flocks Spot the hazard, assess the risk, and always wear your jocks!
-- Edited by Disco Duck on Thursday 29th of October 2009 10:45:39 AM
Disco Duck said
11:57 AM Oct 29, 2009
An Australian Love Poem.
Of course I love ya darlin
Youre a bloody top-notch bird
And when I say youre gorgeous
I mean every single word
So ya bum is on the big side
I dont mind a bit of flab
It means that when Im ready
Theres somethin there to grab
So your belly isnt flat no more
I tell ya, I dont care
So long as when I cuddle ya
I can get my arms round there
No Sheila who is your age
Has nice round perky breasts
Yurs just gave in to gravity
But I know ya did ya best
Im tellin ya the truth now
I never tell ya lies
I think its very sexy
That youve got dimples on ya thighs
I swear on me nannas grave now
The moment that we met
I thought you was as good as
I was ever gonna get
No matter what u look like
Ill always love ya dear
Now shut up while the footballs on
And fetch another beer.
drongo & wendy said
12:59 PM Oct 29, 2009
Grat stuff Disco.
Hope the art of true aussie bush poetry never fades.
Cruising Granny said
01:06 PM Oct 29, 2009
Just love it Ducky! Bloody bonza!
Let there be more Aussie prose and poetry.
If they don't understand it, they're not Aussie.
The Farmer took off in his Ute, to go and check his stock.
He drove around the paddocks checking wethers, ewes and lambs,
The float valves in the water troughs, the windmills on the dams.
He stopped and turned a windmill on to fill a water tank
And saw a ewe down in the dam, a few yards from the bank.
"Typical bloody sheep," he thought, "they've got no common sense,
"They won't go through a gateway but they'll jump a bloody fence."
The ewe was stuck down in the mud, he knew without a doubt
She'd stay there 'til she carked it if he didn't get her out.
But when he reached the water's edge, the startled ewe broke free
And in her haste to get away, began a swimming spree.
He reckoned once her fleece was wet, the weight would drag her down
If he didn't rescue her, the stupid sod would drown.
Her style was unimpressive, her survival chances slim
He saw no other option, he would have to take a swim.
He peeled his shirt and singlet off, his trousers, boots and socks
And as he couldn't stand wet clothes, he also shed his jocks.
He jumped into the water and away that ****y swam
He caught up with her, somewhere near the middle of the dam
The ewe was quite evasive, she kept giving him the slip
He tried to grab her sodden fleece but couldn't get a grip.
At last he got her to the bank and stopped to catch his breath
She showed him little gratitude for saving her from death.
She took off like a Bondi tram around the other side
He swore next time he caught that ewe he'd hang her bloody hide.
Then round and round the dam they ran, although he felt quite puffed
He still thought he could run her down, she must be nearly stuffed.
The local stock rep came along, to pay a call that day.
He knew this bloke was on his own, his wife had gone away
He didn't really think he'd get fresh scones for morning tea
But nor was he prepared for what he was about to see.
He rubbed his eyes in disbelief at what came into view
For running down the catchment came this frantic-looking ewe.
And on her heels in hot pursuit and wearing not a stitch
The farmer yelling wildly "Come back here, you lousy bitch!"
The stock rep didn't hang around, he took off in his car
The Farmer's reputation has been damaged near and far
So bear in mind the Work Safe rule when next you check your flocks
Spot the hazard, assess the risk, and always wear your jocks!
-- Edited by Disco Duck on Thursday 29th of October 2009 10:45:39 AM