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| The Joys of Farming | |
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The cows have got mastitis, the calves are scourin' bad, The dog has got arthritis, he's got it like me Dad! The rooster's looking sickly, the hens refuse to lay, The ferns are growing quickly, and I'm runnin' out of hay. The fences all need strainin', the roof blew off me shed, Now it's started rainin', and me wife is sick in bed. The sheep will soon need shearin', three paddock gates are down, The spoutin's all need cleanin', the water's turnin' brown! I need to use the harrows but one tractor tyre is flat, And now some flamin' sparrow has just messed on me hat! Me motor-cycle's busted, I think it's stripped a gear, One water-tank has rusted, and me bull is lookin' queer! The tax-man wants me money, the bank is on me back, The door's near off the dunny, the ducks have lost their quack! And now I've started shakin', I'm shiverin' through and through; All me joints are achin', I think I've caught the 'flu! What's that I hear you speakin'? Talk louder, please, me lad! The windmill's loudly creakin', and me hearin's goin' bad. You ask why I'm complainin': you've got it wrong, my son, I'm only just explainin' what's needin' to be done. That's why autumn's quiet, there's not that much to do, Come spring, it's near a riot! it's work the whole day through!
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Web of Poets | Philip Rush | Poetry | Bibliography | A Note for the Reader | Copyright | Web Sites | |
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