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Monday, 13 July 2020

8 Days a Week: Bush Poem #4

Day 4 bush poem 4:

Some of Johnny Best’s bush poems are rofl-funny. Here’s one.

Long John Best:
This is a factual account of an incident that occurred to me in my late teens and altered the direction my life took from that day forward. Only the locations have been changed to protect the townsfolk from the notoriety that descended on the good citizens of Lourdes in France. I called it:
                         Horse Sense

Far out beyond the Great Divide, lay another world to me,
Son of suburbia that I am, from a city by the sea.
My academic achievements were greatly admired on the coast,
But way out there, I must declare, it’s horse sense that counts the most.
Oh, I’d travelled West, with youthful zest, in search of the Great Outback,
When the ute tossed it in outa Quilpie, along the Windorah track.

In the old girl’s sparse shade, I ponder, what could be possibly wrong?
And try as I might, what I do is not right, and nobody comes along.
Five long hours creep slowly by, can the heat be affecting my brain?
For I swear I can hear someone talking; there, I can hear it again.
I’m standing now, and I’m looking, but the only creature I see
Is an old grey horse across the road, and he’s staring straight at me.

He sorta grins and then he begins to talk in a voice quite low,
“It appears to me that your carby’s blocked, clean it out and yer ute’ll go.”
I stand amazed, and somewhat dazed as he saunters off out of sight.
I’ve no other recourse but have faith in the horse and hope I can put it right.
I did as he said, God Bless him, she started first turn of the key.
I’m off down the track with no looking back, a miracle’s happened to me.

Windorah’s first pub finds me braking, my God what a story I bear,
Like shot from a gun, up the front steps I run, the bar’s empty, there’s nobody there.
Only the barman is present, bored, polishing glasses away.
Thinks I, just you wait, the tale I relate will certainly liven your day.
He poured and polished, I ranted.
Never into my story, he broke, Struth, you could have knocked me down, with a feather, when finally spoke. “My word,” he said, “You struck the grey, you should count your lucky stars,
The bay was out there last week, he knows bugger all about cars.”

YOU CAN ORDER TALL TALES from your physical bookstore (author Long John Best, publisher Bent Banana Books) or in paperback or eBook from online-retailers including
https://amzn.to/3gHuWko   (paperback and Kindle)
https://bit.ly/3iN3Wld (Barnes&Noble paperback)


Proceeds to animal welfare, RSPCA QLD

Place means a lot to most people and it is essential John’s story is set in the Outback.
Many successful songs reference a place. Few reference as many as this 1962 Australian song from Lucky Starr.


Johnny Cash Americanized the song but he could not name-check as quickly as Lucky.
Hank Snow had a hit with the first American adaptation.

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