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There's promise of rain in those high flying clouds
Farmers watch, as they wait and they wonder,
but clouds don't deliver - all doubted they would
it's just heart beats sounds like distant thunder.
While the old trees stand lonely denuded of leaves
and their silver bark glints in the sunlight
all around them are paddocks, now empty and bare-
seems sometimes that this drought is their birthright.
Every morning folks rise and eat breakfast together,
some will bow their heads as they pray.
'Dear Lord keep us safe, keep us strong, keep us willing
to strive - and please send rain today.'
Then they pull on their boots, grab their hats and their rifles
and head for the Ute with the dogs,
to check out the paddocks and put down the stock
that have weakened, are dying or bogged.
Whilst Mum in the kitchen, gathers her supplies
and checks in the pantry once more.
There's some fruit that she bottled, a few jars are left
but there's little much else left in store.
She's a few veggies growing though water is scarce,
but she saves every drop that she can,
and her chooks are still laying - thank God for those girls,
their eggs, with some cheese make a flan.
There are lambs to be fed, small and helpless drought orphans,
and each one is precious by right,
she will feed them four hourly, they're snug by the fire
but she lost one wee soul just last night.
Her tears have long gone like the life giving rain
her heart lies heavy in her chest,
as she carries the tiny towel wrapped little body
outside where she lays it to rest.
And she worries each day how her men folk are coping
they don't seem to talk anymore,
and a beer at the pub with their mates doesn't happen
for there's not a spare cent in store.
She knows they are tough, self reliant and hardy,
but she has also seen the tears
that have run down tired faces, left trails in the dust
and she holds them - and damps down her fears .
There is nothing to do but to keep on just doing
the best that they can every day.
And the biggest and best lift their spirits received,
was a big rig full loaded with hay.
Just to know that their plight wasn't being ignored
that other folks out there really care
bought a smile to those faces so careworn and tired
whilst hope once more overcame despair.
So please don't give up on our farmers - they need now
each skerrick of help we can offer.
You may think that the little you do cannot matter...
believe me it does. Every shopper
who donates at the checkout is saving a soul,
every dollar received is a blessing.
It's a sweet balm of hope, an outpouring of strength
and the problems of drought it's addressing.
see some scribbles here - http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/