I’ll Ne’er Forget That Day Old Mate!



Poetry-kidIt was a dream come true you see to stand there in that ring,
For rodeo was in my blood and one day I’d be king.
The beast I drew was mean and lean … no Chainsaw I admit,
But still if I could just ride time I’d show them I had grit.

I’d limbered up behind the chute preparing for the ride,
Well knowing what was just ahead, but took it in my stride.
The chute boss called, “You’ve drawn chute five, get down and make it quick.”
Then as I eyed the beast below … I suddenly felt sick.

That brute it tried to climb the gate and bellowed cries of fear,
While chute hands fought to organise the necessary gear.
I felt the violent quiver of the hide between my chaps,
The smell of sweat, the cry of men … a change of mind perhaps?

Too late I felt the rope pulled taut and shoved within my glove,
I thought it’s now or never mate and sent a prayer above.
Then as I pulled my Colly down I yelled out, “Let him go!”
The gate flew open … it was on … ‘twas time to rodeo.

With whites of eyes all full of hate that beast did twist and turn,
&#Twas obvious my frame aboard was something he did spurn.
Eight seconds on this beast from hell seemed like eternity,
For ev’ry muscle which I owned screamed out in agony.

Between the jars and twists and turns I heard the crowd all cheer,
Then at long last that blessed sound of hooter in my ear.
The pick up man then pulled me clear and was I proud … not half
I’ll ne’er forget that day old mate I rode that poddy calf.

Poetry edited by Mike Puhallo

Merv Webster a bush poet from Bargara, Qld, Australia who calls himself The Goondiwindi Grey sent me this one via email.