OUR AGENT

As a girl, I knew this bloke.
Champion, he liked to smoke.
He would come, and draft our cattle,
No yelling, or sign of battle.
I watched him, from on the stand.
Leather flapper, in his hand.
Top him. Bush him. He’s and a tail.
We prepared, for a cattle sale.

This man will go, out of his way,
And is content, to have no say.
When asked of, his point of view,
There’s really, not much you can do.
Patiently wait, till his speaks,
Could be waiting, many weeks.
Don’t you think, it’s absurd,
Here’s an agent, short a word.

Next door, to the local cafe,
He sits waiting, his mind far away.
Perched on that, old broken stool,
It is peaceful, shady and cool.
And the hours, that he’s spent.
Office doorway, he has lent.
I’ve often thought, that the shop,
Without his help, might just drop.

And that endless, roll your own smoke.
Makes me want to, heave and choke.
When you ride, with him to a sale,
You will, arrive there feeling pale.
But a ride, with him in the car,
Is really not, all that far.
As the trips, to him are gauged,
By number of smokes, not the K's.

I will, always recall the day,
When a cow of ours, went astray.
From behind, she hit him hard,
He smashed against, the old stock yard.
While sporting a, cracked rib or two,
To his aid, we quickly flew.
His only concern, if you must
Was his biro, in the dust.

He told a tale, of long ago,
His horse back from, Koko rodeo.
While back at work, on the road,
They came across, a cleanskin rogue.
The beast took off, with awful haste,
The horse and dog, began to chase.
He jammed the spurs, against her flesh,
And then she turned, rather fresh.

She kicked and farted, and began to root,
At a time and place, that didn’t suit.
The dog came back, to join the fun,
And after dog, the bull did run.
With horse and dog and bull and that.
He rode that horse, with hand on hat.
Although not one, to brag or boast.
To ride that horse, he’ll always toast.

Not so very, long ago.
He came with a, new watch to show.
He told us of, his future wife,
And some changes, in his life.
It’s nice to come, along and bless,
Your future, and your happiness.
I wish you well, and hope you might,
Both have, a very good night.

By Lyn Eather 1998.

Brian Kelly drafting cattle at Myella.