Open Poetry #41 |
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The Outback Shearing Shed |
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LindsayP Member Elite
since 2007-07-28
Posts 3410Australia, Victoria ![]() |
The Outback Shearing Shed There’s movement at the station for it’s time to earn their keep And all the station hands were ready for their chore, The musterers had penned up the first big mob of sheep, The shearers too were ready for whatever lay in store.. It’s a busy time in early Spring when shearing time is nigh, The station dogs are ready too, at this time every year, The boss is looking upwards hoping for a clear blue sky, For heavy rain brings great disdain & remains a constant fear. The bell is rung, the shearers start for a long days work ahead, Each one hoping for a ton as they survey the waiting flock, The waiting strain that each one felt immediately now has fled, As they shear away the belly wool and trim the crutch and hocks. In unison they’re shearing now , the handpiece opens up the wool, Up the neck, then round the shoulder, the soft wool falling free, Each shearer showing fervent skill with the hand piece running full, As they slip into the long blow with a great show of energy. The ringer has his head in front as he goes down the whipping side, Eager to show why he’s the best as he shoves the old ewe down the race, The picker up picks up the fleece and by his expert hands that guide, Spreads the fleece with perfect skill as most usually is the case. The cry goes out for wool away as the other fleeces hit the floor, Each shearer glad the season’s on and all strive to make a tidy tally, They’re cross-bred ewes and good to shear a fact they can’t ignore, Great sheep to build a good total up and no one will dilly- dally. The dogs are barking in the pens, as they strive to keep them full, For the men who do the penning up, then they draft another mob, For the musterers as they bring them in, most with their belly’s full, To keep the whole show running smoothly as each one knows his job. The fleeces on the table spread, are skirted, rolled and classed, Then placed in their appropriate bins which number half a score , With an empty wool bail in the press all know the waiting time is past, With the boss’s son and his Jackaroo mate ready for their chore. Shearing goes on for many weeks with an occasional call for tar, The weather’s kind, dry it’s been but now storm clouds gather overhead, But the final sheep goes down the race & shearers head for the local bar And slowly a normal life returns to that outback shearing shed. |
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© Copyright 2007 Lindsay P Wilson - All Rights Reserved | |||
latearrival Member Ascendant
since 2003-03-21
Posts 5499Florida |
Thank you for this.I was there with you all the way and learned something new. "late" |
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Earth Angel Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215Realms of Light |
Hand me some shears and I'll right fleece them woollies, nice 'n clean! ~ 'Cause I just learned how it's done from Aussie Man! ![]() My yearning to visit the Land Down Under, is getting stronger with every poem of yours that I read on your beloved homeland! Warm hug-o-love to you, LP, Linda |
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Artic Wind Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 8080Realm of Supernatural |
I love the outback! all the wild life, and wild plants, and the best sun set ARCTIC WIND |
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Bleeding Ink Junior Member
since 2007-11-12
Posts 31 |
enjoyed your poem story very descriptive! |
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LindsayP Member Elite
since 2007-07-28
Posts 3410Australia, Victoria |
Late, Linda, Arctic Wind and Bleeding Ink, How would we all get on if we didn't have kind folks like you to give us a pat on the back now and again, Thanks sincerely, And welcome Bleeding Ink to Passions in Poetry. Lindsay |
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Rick Member Elite
since 2001-06-21
Posts 2903Victoria, Australia |
Hi Lindsay, another great one from you my friend, enjoyed every line. Take care and be well. Rick |
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Earl Brinkman Senior Member
since 2010-03-03
Posts 1183Osaka, Japan |
I learned about shearing today. Thanks. |
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