Poetry about a farmer battling the elements of the land |
Dear dad I'm sitting on the porch right now Needing your advice. I'm a little lost right now Can't seem to do nothing right The crops are in bad shape Need a whole heap of rain It doesn't seem to be happening And I hang my head in shame. I remember the day clearly What you said before your last breath You told me I'm a drover son And you knew I would do my best. The land is a double edged sword you said It can be your friend or foe The seasons will change. The rivers will dry and then they will flow. Then you took my hand in yours Closed your eyes and slipped away I wish you were still here dad to help me fight another day. The banks been a calling They are threatening to foreclose. I here the wife crying She doesn't think I know. Our neighbour Harry He packed his ute and left. Said he could not do it anymore. No longer handle the stress. The billabong is dry I had to shoot some cattle The food is scarce It's a never ending battle. So I sit here and stare out at the night..................... Hold on dad that can't be right. My ears must be playing tricks. Did I here a pitta pat on the tin roof Have I had one to many Streuth............................ I can't believe it ........... It's Raining dad The heavens have opened up You have sent me a message Down from above I believe you Dad The time has finally come I remember what you told me. I am a drovers son.......................... |